Betrayal
by Jedi Sapphire
Summary: Centuries of plotting come to a head. Betrayal runs deep in the court of the Elven-king.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Not one Elf.

 **Author's Note:** Here it is, the next part of Míron-arc. This is the last story in the timeline before _Practise to Deceive_ , and there'll be at least one more set after that to complete the arc.

This story is going to be four parts, perhaps five depending on how the chapter splits work out.

In chronology this follows _Hours of Darkness, Tangled Web, Doubt, The Art of Artifice_ and _Loyalties_. I strongly suggest reading those first; this won't make much sense otherwise. It's set much after _Loyalties_ , about a century before the events of _The Hobbit_.

One last note on the timeline in this fic: it's shifting. I tend to do that in stories and it worked best for this; I have one linear version and it simply doesn't have the same impact.

Enjoy the story!

 **Summary:** Centuries of plotting come to a head. Betrayal runs deep in the court of the Elven-king.

* * *

 **Betrayal**

 **Part I**

 **27 September, Morning**

About to enter Legolas' sitting room, Thranduil hesitated in the doorway.

Saeldur was perched on the edge of the table. He was supporting Legolas, who was in a chair pulled up to it, helping him drink something from a cup, but he had turned at the sound of the door opening. His wary grey eyes were on Thranduil. Eredhion and Voronwë were on their feet, standing directly in Thranduil's path.

The Elven-king opened his mouth to order them out of the way, but Saeldur shook his head.

"Legolas," Saeldur said gently, putting down the cup. "Your father is here."

Before Thranduil could begin to ask any of the fifty questions that statement roused – most importantly, why Saeldur imagined Legolas had not already noticed his presence – blue eyes were raised to his. His son managed a half-smile.

" _Adar._ "

Thranduil had to force himself not to exclaim in dismay. Legolas' normally clear voice was weak and rasping.

He took a step forward. This time, Eredhion and Voronwë moved aside to let him pass. But they shifted back together at once, preventing any of the Elves behind him from entering the room. Thranduil knew he ought to ask what was happening, but he could not tear his eyes from his son's face.

"You look tired." Thranduil matched Saeldur's quiet tone. "I suppose now is not the time to scold you for failing to write to me."

* * *

 **22 September, Morning**

The Elven-king fingered his son's last letter. It was several days old, short, hurried, and barely legible.

Of course, he had left Legolas a great deal of work to do – so much that he felt guilty whenever he thought of it. In the King's absence, Legolas was required to preside over council meetings, War Council and petitions in court. That was in addition to his normal duties, and the archery training that he and his captains had taken over to allow Thorontur time to handle Arbellason's work.

Legolas had probably not had a full night's sleep in weeks. He could hardly be blamed for forgetting to send a letter to his father.

Thranduil put the letter down and turned his attention to Arbellason, who had just entered the tent.

"I have been hearing rumours of cold drakes." Arbellason shrugged off his cloak and poured himself a cup of wine. "We should have brought some archers with us."

Thranduil laughed. "Then we would have spent _days_ riding north on a dragon-slaying quest. I think we are better off without them this time." He paused. "Has the courier returned?"

The commander of his armies responded with a slight shake of his head. "Before you ask, he is only a few hours late. That can easily be explained by delays on the road. Do not worry, Thranduil. If any difficulties had arisen, Thorontur would have sent us word by now."

"Thorontur's last letter spoke of nothing but who was making trouble in court."

"Precisely. You know he dotes upon Legolas. Do you think he would write to you complaining about Míron and Norgalad if there were something wrong with your son?"

"No, of course not. All the same… Legolas has not written to me for over three weeks."

"Legolas is probably overwhelmed with work. He is a fine warrior. He is more than capable of defending himself. You must trust to that, if you trust nothing else."

* * *

 **27 September, Morning**

"Legolas has been busy." Saeldur offered his friend another sip from the cup – water, Thranduil saw now that he was nearer. "He _is_ tired."

"He is _dying_ ," Celebwen snapped from where she stood in the doorway, loudly enough to make Legolas flinch at the noise. "I do not know what you think you are doing, Saeldur, but this has gone far enough." She took a step into the room, only to meet the immovable obstacle of the Prince's guards. "Have the two of you lost your minds? Legolas is dying and you want to play at _spies_?"

"Celebwen," Thranduil said, because nobody else seemed to be saying anything, and he was going to lose his mind if she said one more time that his son was dying. "What is happening?"

Celebwen's voice was shaking with anger when she answered. "Perhaps you should ask Legolas' guards – and his captains – that question. They seem to be under the impression that the healers have all formed a conspiracy to murder their prince. _Our_ prince."

"Not all the healers, my lady." Saeldur did not look at her as he spoke. "One healer. But since you will not help us discover who that one is, we must assume that any of the healers might be guilty."

"Are you trying to teach me my craft, Saeldur? I was watchful of everything Legolas was given to eat or drink since he returned to the stronghold injured, as I would be for any of my charges. He has not been harmed by anything _we_ have done. Perhaps there was poison on the Orc blade, but we will never know, since you did not bother to retrieve it!"

" _Orc blade?_ " Thranduil felt dizzy. "What Orc blade?" All of a sudden, nobody would meet his eyes. " _What_ Orc blade?" he repeated.

"When we went south," Saeldur mumbled at last.

"But… You went south nearly a month ago. Are you telling me Legolas was injured _weeks_ ago and nobody thought to tell me of it?" He shook his head, sinking into a chair. "What happened?"

* * *

 **4 September, Afternoon**

Legolas knew as soon as he felt the sword go in that it was bad. He knew it before his knees buckled from the pain, before his breath shortened and caught, before Saeldur stepped in front him, knives drawn, and hissed, "Kill them _all_."

The archers moved, scything mercilessly through the Orcs.

Saeldur had not stopped to watch them go; already he was kneeling at Legolas' side, easing him into a more comfortable position. Legolas would have thanked him, but he did not have the air, his nerves were on fire, his lungs were tight –

"Legolas, look at me. _Breathe._ You can do it if you stay calm."

It took a moment, but Legolas did manage a short, shallow breath, and then another.

His vision was starting to blur.

Saeldur was moving, muttering to himself as he tried to find something in his pack. Legolas knew it was useless. They had both been trained in battlefield medication. There was nothing Saeldur could do to help him. And there were far more important things for him to be doing in any case.

"Saeldur." It hurt to speak. " _No_ … Leave me."

Saeldur ignored him.

"Saeldur," Legolas tried again, intending to speak more forcefully but only managing a pained gasp. "You… you cannot –"

" _Please_ do not finish that sentence, Legolas." Legolas felt his tunic being pushed aside and something cool and damp dabbing at his skin. Cleaning the wound. He felt oddly removed from himself, as though he were a spectator. "I know this is beyond my skill." Saeldur's voice was trembling. He _had_ realized it was bad. "Let me put a few stitches in, and then I will take you back to the stronghold."

"No," Legolas protested.

Saeldur must stay if he himself could not. The archers could not be left on their own, and the border could not be left unguarded. Bercalion's warriors were on the move, but it would be at least two days before they arrived in enough numbers to hold ground – three, if there were unexpected delays.

"I will make a bargain with you," Saeldur said. "You cannot return to the stronghold on your own, and I do not trust any of the archers with us now to see you there safely. I know you do not like it, but I _am_ going with you. You save your strength. We will assume that I am being disobedient and insubordinate and you can scold me for it when you have sufficiently recovered."

Despite himself, Legolas smiled as he let his head drop.

By the time Saeldur snipped off the thread, the archers were returning.

"We finished them," said Duvain. There was grim satisfaction in his voice. "How is he?"

"It is bad." Saeldur helped Legolas sit up, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder as a wave of dizziness hit. "I am taking Legolas to the stronghold. Take command, Duvain, and make certain –"

He stopped short at the sound of hoofbeats. Even with his fading senses, Legolas could tell they were too light to be any but an Elven rider. All the same, Saeldur stiffened, his free hand going for a knife.

"See who it is," he ordered.

One of the archers scrambled into a tree, returning a moment later to say, "Rochendilwen."

The report was followed by the arrival of Rochendilwen herself – at least, Legolas assumed it was Rochendilwen. The world was dissolving into light and shadow. He heard her feet hit the ground as she swung herself off her horse.

"I volunteered to bring letters," she said. "The couriers have enough to do riding back and forth to the King. It seems it is all to the good that I came." She crouched on Legolas' other side. "The trees have been urging me to greater speed. Now I see why. How badly is he injured?"

"He needs the Healers. Urgently." Saeldur gave Legolas a light shake. "Stay awake."

"I will take him back. Up, Legolas." She slid an arm around Legolas' shoulders, still speaking to Saeldur. "I will send word when they have seen him."

* * *

 **27 September, Morning**

"Very well," Thranduil said. "Legolas was gravely injured. Rochendilwen brought him back. That still does not explain why nobody told me anything."

"We did not want to disturb you," Thorontur explained from the doorway. Eredhion and Voronwë were still barring both him and Arbellason, although Arbellason had been with Thranduil all this time and was therefore certainly innocent of anything the Prince's guards suspected the healers of doing. "You do not know how many times I took up my pen to write to you. It just seemed… unnecessary."

 _Unnecessary._

If Thranduil had needed anything confirmation that something bad had happened in his absence, the stiff formality of Thorontur's tone provided it. His business with the Northmen had been important, but not more important than Legolas. Thorontur, of all people, should have known that.

* * *

 **22 September, Afternoon**

It was a sign of how distracted Thranduil was that he did not notice Brand's approach until his voice broke into the Elven-king's thoughts.

"Is something the matter?"

Thranduil turned to the leader of the settlement. He hesitated over telling him the truth. It was certainly not his business, and the Elven-king had an inborn distrust of mortals.

But Brand was acquainted with Legolas. They were friends, after a fashion.

"I am worried about my son," he said at last. "Legolas has been in the south with his warriors, in a particularly dangerous part of the forest. They should have returned by now, but I have not heard from him for several days, and nobody else will say anything of him."

Brand's guarded expression softened a little. It was amazing how often Legolas' name had that effect.

"Your son is one of the finest warriors I have ever met," he offered. "He almost managed to persuade me to abandon my sword for a bow."

Thranduil laughed. "Legolas is notorious for that. People see him shoot Orcs from four leagues away, assume it is as easy as he makes it seem, and take up archery training. I am glad to see you had better sense."

"I realized fairly quickly that I could not hope to match the legendary warriors of the Elven-king." Brand smiled. "I do not doubt that your son is quite well, Lord Thranduil. Indeed, I have a gift for him. That was why I sought you now."

"A gift? For Legolas?"

Brand held out a book. "The lays of my people. I had them translated into Sindarin for Legolas. I know he speaks the Common Tongue but I thought he might prefer this. The book arrived only this morning, or I would have given it to you sooner."

Thranduil took the book. "I will give it to him, Lord Brand. I know he will be delighted with it, and grateful to you for thinking of him."

And, although he did not say it, he himself was grateful beyond measure to Legolas for being the only Elf in the realm, perhaps the only Elf in all Middle-earth, who could win over a battle-hardened leader of the Northmen thoroughly enough to have him translating old songs into the Grey Tongue.

* * *

 **27 September, Morning**

"There is certainly a good deal to discuss," Thranduil said. " _Later._ At the moment all I want to know is this: has any of you any _proof_ that someone was poisoning Legolas?"

"We have no definite proof," Eredhion admitted reluctantly.

Saeldur, Thranduil noticed, had suddenly started studying one of the books on the table with great attention. He filed the fact away for later reference.

"If you have no proof –"

"We do not need proof," Saeldur said, not looking up. "I _know_ there has been evil done. And there is no other explanation for why Legolas is still so weak, my King. I saw the injury. I stitched it myself. It was bad, I do not deny that, but Rochendilwen brought him back quickly. There should be no lingering effects."

"You cannot seriously expect anybody to take your word over mine," Celebwen said furiously. "Even if you are right in saying that Legolas has been poisoned, who do you imagine can give him medicine if you will not let any of us near him? You may have learnt how to stitch cuts and splint bones, but you know nothing of healing. You should be ashamed to be risking Legolas' life on some ridiculous childish whim. For all I know, you are poisoning him yourself."

"My lady," Legolas protested, but Saeldur hushed him with an admonition not to waste his strength.

Thranduil intervened before the argument could grow any more heated. "You are correct, Celebwen, in saying that Saeldur knows far less of healing than you do. I am certain nobody impugns your ability as a healer."

"Precisely," Celebwen said, with the distinct air of having been vindicated. "Now, if you will only let me see what he needs –"

She stopped short when Eredhion cleared his throat.

"You will not be near Legolas, Lady Celebwen, until we have learnt the truth."

Looking from Eredhion and Voronwë, standing immovably in the path of anyone who might attempt to enter the room, to Saeldur, whose eyes were like flint, Thranduil knew that not even a direct order from him would make them yield, not when they saw a threat to Legolas.

"Legolas will not last another day if you do not let me help him," said Celebwen.

Nobody said anything, but Thranduil could tell that all the young Elves were aware of that. Saeldur's fingers were so tight around the cup Thranduil feared it might break.

"Thranduil," Thorontur urged, "say something."

Thranduil glanced around the room again. "I find it very difficult to believe that Celebwen has anything but Legolas' best interests in mind." He raised a hand to forestall Saeldur's objection. "That said, I find it even more difficult to believe my son's friends would risk his wellbeing without a very good reason."

* * *

 **6 September, Evening**

A lone Elf was in a store room by the Healing Wards. The door was open, but the shadows concealed him from any passersby in the corridor. He had seen Rochendilwen ride into the courtyard, even her battle-trained charger rolling its eyes and prancing nervously at the smell of blood.

He had followed her discreetly. He had waited to see the flurry of activity in the Healing Wards as she handed Legolas into their care. He had waited to see Lord Thorontur, breathless with anxiety, burst into the room.

He was waiting still.

His patience was rewarded when the door opened. Rochendilwen and Lord Thorontur stepped into the corridor, followed by Lady Celebwen, Lord Thorontur's wife and one of the most experienced healers of the realm.

The Elf prepared to strain his ears, but, unaware of any listeners, Lady Celebwen did not bother to lower her voice.

"It is too soon to say anything." There was an undercurrent of tension, perhaps of fear. Good. Fear was good. "There seems little doubt that the blade was poisoned. It is a bad wound in any case. Saeldur did well with the stitches, or Legolas would not have lasted the ride."

"When will you know something?" Thorontur asked, his normally steady voice shaking.

"I will tell you, _meleth_ , as soon as I do. But you cannot do Legolas any good by hovering. Neither of you can. Go out, go to the archery ranges. I will send someone for you."

She went back in, shutting the door firmly.

Rochendilwen and Thorontur stayed where they were, until sudden running footsteps made them start.

The Elf leaned out a little to see the newcomer. Aeroniel; by the look of her, she had just returned from patrol and heard the rumours.

"How is he?" she demanded. Then, taking in the sight of Rochendilwen's bloodstained tunic, "Elbereth Gilthoniel. Is that all from Legolas? What do the healers say?"

"That we must wait." Thorontur shook his head. "I do not like it, either, but my wife and daughters have the right of this. If only Barancrist had not gone with Thranduil…"

"Lady Celebwen is a skilled healer, my lord," Aeroniel said quietly.

"Oh, she is. But Celebwen is too fond of Legolas to think entirely objectively. And Melda and Calathiel do not have as much experience as she does. Feredir is at least accustomed to treating Legolas…"

"But he has gone with the King," Aeroniel finished. "It is a difficult situation… We should speak to the archers. They have been hearing all sorts of rumours. Half of them fear Legolas is dead and we are keeping it secret." She glanced at Rochendilwen. "They cannot see you looking like that, or they will _all_ believe Legolas is dead. Get a fresh tunic. Then we can go."

The Elf waited until all three of them had gone before slipping out of the store room. He hurried out of the stronghold to a small room behind the smithy, where his parents were waiting.

"It is time," he said, without giving them a chance to speak. " _Adar_ – _naneth_ – it is time."

"What happened, Arahael?" His father pulled him inside and shut the door. "Tell us everything."

"Legolas was injured in the south. Saeldur sent him back – with Rochendilwen. I never thought Saeldur would show such good sense. It is the perfect arrangement."

"Injured how?"

"A wound from an Orc blade. The healers are still with him, so I do not know how serious it was. But Rochendilwen was covered in so much blood she looked as though she had slaughtered a horse."

"If we are lucky," said Lord Míron, "it will have been serious enough to kill him. But we cannot leave it to chance. Which healers are with him?"

"Lord Thorontur's wife and daughters."

"Even better. And Saeldur is still in the south. Do you know when he is expected to return?"

"The archers are expected to break camp the day after tomorrow, at first light. They will not be trying to outrun Námo as Rochendilwen was, so they will take at least three days on the journey."

"We must act quickly, then."

"No," said Arahael's mother sharply. "We must not be hasty. Thranduil and Arbellason are away, and, by happy chance, those of the healers who have the most experience in matters of poison are with them. Saeldur is in no danger of being suspected, since he is not even here. We will not have such an opportunity again, and we must not squander it by being rash."

"What are we to do, then?"

The _elleth_ smiled. "There are messages to be sent to our friends. I will see to that. In the meantime, try to act normal. Nobody must suspect anything amiss. Now go. We will not speak of this again. What we do is necessary, but it is a dark thing to kill an Elf. Let it be done in silence."

* * *

What did you think? Good? Bad? Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Not one Elf.

Many thanks to everyone who reviewed Part I. I hope you enjoy Part II (and don't want to hunt me down at the end of it)!

* * *

 **Part II**

 **27 September, Morning**

"What are you saying, Thranduil?" Thorontur demanded.

"I am saying we must discuss this further. I do not believe Celebwen poisoned Legolas any more than I believe Saeldur did. But if Saeldur thinks someone has made an attempt on Legolas' life and the prince's guards agree with him, I am not going to ignore their suspicions." He glanced at Legolas. "Elbereth help that Elf when I find out who it is."

"What do you want to do, then?" Thorontur's voice was tense with something more than just worry for Legolas.

Thranduil willed himself to be calm.

"We are going to talk like rational, civilized Elves. We are not going to shout at each other here. I will see everyone in my study in fifteen minutes. Saeldur, find Aeroniel or Rochendilwen to come and sit with Legolas." When nobody moved, he added, "You may all go."

* * *

 **23 September, Morning**

"Letters." Arbellason deposited a large bundle of papers in front of Thranduil.

"The courier arrived, then? Why was he late?"

"He was detained with Thorontur – he wanted details about the state of the path." Arbellason shrugged. "I asked him if he had seen Legolas, but he said he had not. He spent all his time with Thorontur, and he was scarcely in the stronghold a few hours in any case. Legolas _is_ very busy at the moment. He might not have been there at all."

"Yes," Thranduil murmured absently, rapidly sorting through the letters. He stopped when he came to one marked with the single arrow seal of the archers. It was not in Legolas' hand, though. "I suppose so."

He broke the seal with his thumb and unfolded the letter.

Saeldur's name was at the bottom.

Thranduil read it quickly. It was short and to the point.

 _My King,_

 _Lord Thorontur will not be pleased if he knows I have written to you – nor will Legolas, for that matter. But Legolas will not stay angry long. Even if he does, I cannot remain silent._

 _You must return, as soon as you can, with Lord Barancrist and Feredir. Legolas needs you. I dare not say too much in a letter. I have taken all the precautions I could; yet I fear this might be intercepted and drive someone to desperate measures. Lord Thorontur does not want to admit it, even to himself, but… Legolas is in grave danger. I do not know whom to trust._

 _Please. You must return._

 _Saeldur_

Thranduil frowned over the letter for a moment before handing it to Arbellason. "What do you make of that?"

Arbellason read it quickly. "Has Thorontur said nothing to you of Legolas?"

"Nothing at all. He has barely mentioned Legolas' name since before he left for the south. You do not think… I would have been told if he had been seriously injured. Nobody would have dared to keep that from me, surely."

Arbellason handed the letter back. "I think we should go. Brand will understand if we tell him that urgent business calls us home – and even if he does not, we cannot run the risk. The prince's safety is far more important than any minor pique the Men might feel."

"You think Saeldur is right, then?"

"He says he has gone against Legolas' wishes to write to you. If he has disobeyed Legolas in a matter of such seriousness, he must be well and truly frightened."

"Why would Thorontur have said nothing?"

Arbellason's blue eyes were troubled. "I do not know."

Thranduil picked up the rest of the letters. "Give the order to break camp and ask Brand if he will come and see me. We leave in an hour."

* * *

 **27 September, Morning**

Thranduil waited until the door had closed before he said, "Trust you to find excitement, Legolas."

Legolas laughed a little breathlessly.

"I am not as… ill… as –"

"As you look?" Thranduil bent to kiss his son's forehead. "I certainly hope not. We are going to have a long discussion about keeping information about the state of your health from your father, but that can wait. You need some rest before I lecture you. There is only one thing I want to know now."

Legolas looked at him expectantly.

"I assume you agree with Saeldur that somebody poisoned you, at least to some degree, or you would never have consented to your guards keeping the healers from you. Do you have any suspicions?"

Legolas shook his head. "Nothing… nothing for… certain." He paused to take a breath. "I think… Lord Thorontur…"

"You think Thorontur knows?" Thranduil asked.

"He… yes. He does."

"But… If he knew… Thorontur loves you as a son. If he knew somebody had tried to harm you he would have…" Thranduil trailed off. Legolas' eyes told him exactly what he had not wanted to think. "Elbereth Gilthoniel."

* * *

 **9 September, Evening**

Legolas sipped at the cup Calathiel had left by his chair.

The potion tasted vile, even sweetened with honey. But it dulled the constant ache in his body and kept his exhaustion at bay long enough to let him sit through council. He had had a full day, supervising archery practice for both the morning and afternoon sessions, since Aeroniel, Rochendilwen and Colfind were now splitting his patrols between them. It was taking all his willpower to stay here and listen to his father's Councillors bicker.

"… And so I believe the agreement benefits all of us," Norgalad was saying.

Legolas nodded. He wished the potion would still the pounding of his head. "I believe the King would find those terms acceptable. If you will prepare the draft, Lord Norgalad, it can be put to him on his return."

"Thank you, my prince."

Thorontur cleared his throat. "If there is nothing further –"

"Nobody has yet given thanks for the continued health and safety of our brave warrior-prince." Míron's voice interrupted Thorontur's. He no longer dared to be as openly critical of Legolas as he had been in the past, but he came as close to insolence as he could. "The stronghold has been awash with rumours that you were close to death, Legolas. I am pleased to see that they were mistaken."

"As am I, I assure you, Lord Míron," Legolas said coolly. "Thank you for your concern."

"I was particularly worried, knowing as I do that only the gravest of injuries could have induced you to return to the stronghold, leaving your archers in danger and failing to ensure the elimination of the Orc threat."

"Míron," Norgalad growled, before Legolas could speak, "for over an Age it has been the tradition of this council that, whatever our personal views, we respect the warriors and all they do to ensure our safety. I will not see you break with it now. I will not venture to speculate on how much fuel you have added to any rumours about Legolas' health. I, for one, am grateful he is here."

"Thank you, Lord Norgalad," Legolas said firmly. He sat up, trying to look and sound as much like his father as possible when he said, "Is that all?" The silence that greeted him told him he had succeeded. He went on, "Very well. Council is dismissed."

Lady Celephindeth stayed behind after the others filed out.

"You look exhausted, Legolas," she said, as the door closed behind the last Elf. "Are you getting as much rest as you should?"

Legolas responded with a weary laugh. "There has not been much rest for anybody for some time, my lady. I know my captains would willingly take on more of my duties, but I would not dream of asking it of them when there is no real need."

"Your captains are sworn to defend you. They take their oaths seriously. I think they would be happy to take on additional duties to ensure your wellbeing… In any case, how _did_ Saeldur persuade you to leave? Will I have to endure weeks of moping because he disobeyed you and is in disgrace?"

"Saeldur is not in disgrace, my lady," Legolas assured her. "I cannot answer for the moping. He is liable to think he was to blame for my being injured, although it was not his fault."

Lady Celephindeth shrugged. "I hardly need to tell you that he will only feel guiltier if you continue to look like you are knocking at Lord Námo's door when he returns." She surveyed him. "Saeldur is not the only one who is worried about you, Legolas. You must take care of yourself."

"I will rest, my lady, I promise."

* * *

 **27 September, Afternoon**

Thranduil had never felt such frustration in his life. He had spent what felt like a good three weeks, though it was probably only half a day, trying to get at the truth. It was clear that everyone, with the exception of the prince's guards, was hiding something.

Thorontur would not give a satisfactory answer as to why he had neglected to inform Thranduil that Legolas was seriously injured – nor, in fact, would he even meet Thranduil's eyes. Saeldur refused to divulge where, exactly, his suspicions of poison had originated; Thranduil could not believe they had 'just occurred' to him. Celebwen said little. She was obviously frightened of something, Melda quietly mutinous, and Calathiel… Calathiel was terrified.

Eredhion and Voronwë had not let Legolas drink the last draught Celebwen had sent him, but they had kept it. Thranduil had sent samples to Barancrist and Feredir – they had been with him, away from any attempts to poison Legolas. He _hoped_ he would have the truth of at least one of them.

In the meantime all he could do was try to make sense of the tissue of lies everybody was spinning for him.

* * *

 **24 September, Evening**

"What did you _do_?"

Saeldur steeled himself to meet Arahael's eyes. "I did what I hadto do."

"All you had to do was stay silent and let us carry out our plan! It was perfect, Saeldur. Nobody would have suspected you. Legolas was stabbed by an Orc blade in the full sight of a dozen archers. It would have been put down to a casualty of war. It would even have helped us, in the end, because it would have given the realm's warriors renewed vigour to fight the Enemy."

"You could not possibly have imagined I would agree to this."

"You have said often enough that you understood what had to be done – that it was _necessary_ , that, unpleasant as it was, it was in the best interests of Eryn Galen. If I had known you would lose your courage in the last instant, I would never have let you hear a whisper of what we intended."

Saeldur forced himself not to seize Arahael and shake answers out of him. He had to know how to help Legolas, and that meant he had to play this game a little longer.

"I said it was necessary, but you swore to me that it would be clean – and quick. Nobody deserves to die by inches. Legolas is my friend. I cannot watch him suffer."

"Do you think we would not have done it cleanly if we could? Nobody enjoys inflicting needless suffering. This was the best way to avoid detection."

"Tell me what you gave him," Saeldur snapped.

"No." Arahael squeezed his shoulder. "I know this is difficult for you. I will say this for Legolas: he has proven himself willing to give up anything, including his own life, in the service of the realm. If he understood what you and I do, he would _want_ you to let him die. Youmust stop trying to help him."

"I will not –"

"Saeldur. It is too late to save him. I would not tell you which poison we used even if I _did_ know, but the truth is that I do not. My parents know, and… one of our allies knows. I will not name her to you. Without knowing the poison, you cannot cure Legolas. All you can do is prolong his life by a few tormented days. If you want to help him… Make him comfortable, sit and read to him to distract him from the pain of passing. That is all you can do."

"I cannot condone this."

"Saeldur." Arahael's hand moved down to his elbow. "Listen to me. I understand how difficult this is for you. But we are warriors, sworn to defend the realm at any cost. Legolas must die. Legolas _will_ die. If you insist on trying to find an antidote for the poison…" Arahael shrugged. "Do it, if you must still your conscience. But you will only cause trouble. This I promise you: Legolas is not going to live another week. No matter what you do, we will see to that."

Saeldur stared at him for a moment before pulling away and making his way up to the royal quarters.

Eredhion and Voronwë were in Legolas' sitting room.

"How is he?" Saeldur asked.

Voronwë made a helpless gesture. "He is weakening."

Saeldur sank into a chair. "The King must be on his way home by now."

"You are certain your letter was not intercepted?"

"As certain as I can be. I met the courier when he was a good ten leagues from the stronghold and told him I had forgotten to give it to Lord Thorontur."

"Unless we have answers for him, there is nothing the King can do," Eredhion pointed out. "And – do not take this the wrong way, Saeldur, but we have no proof that Legolas was being poisoned, other than your belief. If you are mistaken, we have been causing him greater harm by keeping the healers from him."

Saeldur scowled. "Do you really imagine I would gamble Legolas' life on a guess?"

"No, but none of us is a trained healer, and he needs one. We must trust _someone_."

Saeldur shrugged. "Lord Elrond and his sons, perhaps."

"Lord Elrond and his sons are in Imladris," Eredhion said sharply. "Legolas is fading _now_. Saeldur, I am not saying we should not be careful, but at least Lady Celebwen –"

" _No._ "

"You cannot imagine that Lady Celebwen means Legolas harm."

"At this moment, there are six Elves in the stronghold that I would trust with Legolas' life: the three of us, Aeroniel, Rochendilwen and Colfind. I dare not trust even my mother… I know Legolas needs a healer," Saeldur admitted. "We must do something."

"We wait for the King. Barancrist and Feredir will be with him." Voronwë glanced towards the closed door to Legolas' bedroom. "I hope we can at least trust Feredir."

* * *

 **27 September, Evening**

"Come in!" Thranduil called in response to the knock.

The page who delivered the two sealed scrolls looked serious, almost grim. He could not know the gravity of the occasion, but perhaps he sensed something, because he slipped them into Thranduil's hand, bowed, and hurried away without a word.

Thranduil let the door close before he looked around the room.

Everybody was watching him in silent anxiety. None of them could possibly feel as anxious as he did. Legolas might be slipping into the darkness of Mandos while he sat here with nothing more than fears and suspicions.

The first note was from Feredir, and the second from Barancrist.

Thranduil read them both.

He closed his eyes for a moment. Then he folded up the letters and stuffed them into a pocket of his robes.

"Well?" Arbellason asked.

Thranduil debated answering, but decided against it. He had played this game before, and he could not make the fatal mistake of giving away too much information – not even to his closest friends. Not when Thorontur, despite his loyalty, despite what Thranduil knew was genuine affection for Legolas, had such an incentive to lie to him.

He got to his feet.

"I am going for a walk," he announced. "Saeldur, come with me. Everybody else, wait here."

He glanced at Eredhion and Voronwë to be certain they understood that nobody was to be allowed to leave the room until he returned. Then he strode out.

* * *

 **10 September, Afternoon**

"Are you still having difficulty breathing?" Lady Celebwen asked.

"A little," Legolas said, because he had long learnt his lesson about trying to hide things from the healers. "Not very much," he added, because downplaying a symptom was not the same as hiding it.

"Here." Melda handed him a cup. "You are fortunate I persuaded _Naneth_ to let me add honey to your draughts, or it would have been far worse."

Legolas smiled his thanks.

"Well?" Lord Thorontur asked, unconcealed anxiety in his voice. "Why is he not healing? Is something wrong?"

"I should not say there is cause for concern." Lady Celebwen sounded as though she was trying to make herself believe that. "Exhaustion is not unusual after such an injury, and Legolas has been exerting himself more than is advisable."

"And…" Thorontur glanced around to make certain nobody save his wife and daughters was present. "What of Thranduil? We must tell him something."

"There is no need, my lord," Legolas said. "It would only worry him needlessly. I would not distract him from his duty."

"I hardly think he would consider your wellbeing a distraction, Legolas."

"Is this an appropriate time for me to point out that if I had been permitted to ride with the archers as I requested, we would not be in this situation?"

Thorontur turned to glare at his younger daughter. "Not now, Calathiel."

"Saeldur does not like me. That is why he will not approve it." Calathiel looked from her father to Legolas. "I do not intend to trouble you when you are already not feeling well, but, Legolas, you must see the sense in what I say. If I had gone with you, I could have treated you there, before the poison took hold."

Legolas sighed. "Saeldur does not entirely trust you, Calathiel. I will not force my captains to work with those they do not trust."

"In any case," Melda interjected calmly, taking the empty cup from Legolas, "Calathiel would do better to take that up with Saeldur. For what it is worth, _Adar_ , I agree with Legolas. There is no need to alarm the King." Melda glanced at Calathiel, who was steeping a sleeping draught. "I will do that. You should return to the Healing Wards, Calathiel. They need your help."

"And perhaps," Thorontur grumbled, "a little distraction will help you learn when to keep silent."

Calathiel knew better than to argue.

After she left, Melda poured the draught into a cup and gave it to Legolas.

"Slowly," she said. "It is hot."

She waited until Legolas' eyes had glazed over in Elven dreams before indicating with a tilt of her head that she wanted to speak to her parents.

They went through into Legolas' sitting room, leaving the door open a crack so that they would know if he woke.

"I am concerned about Calathiel," Melda said softly. " _Adar_ , she has been very frustrated by Saeldur's continued refusal to permit her to ride with the archers. I do not blame him, of course, after what she did in court, but…"

"She will learn to accept it." Thorontur shrugged. "We have tried to keep her from disappointment, but she is not a child, and she has not been a child for some time."

"Yes," Melda said slowly. "But…"

"But what?" asked Celebwen.

" _Naneth_ … Does it not strike you that Legolas is not recovering as quickly as he should? He is more exhausted than he should be, even given how much he has been doing, and…"

" _No_ ," Celebwen hissed. "How can you even _suggest_ that?"

"What?" asked Thorontur.

"Calathiel desperately wants to ride with the archers. This helps her prove her point. It is true that, if she had been with them, she could have helped Legolas at once."

"You are not… are you suggesting Calathiel is _poisoning_ Legolas? She would never do such a thing!"

"She would not try to kill him, of course. But if she made him only a little ill –"

"That is unthinkable! Calathiel? Harm _Legolas_? She would never do such a thing! It must simply be a delayed reaction to the poison on the blade." Thorontur looked at his wife. "That is possible, surely?"

"I am not saying we should have Calathiel arrested," Melda said patiently. "But perhaps we should keep her from Legolas… just to be safe. And… _Adar_. Perhaps you should respect Legolas' wishes and refrain from writing to the King at once."

Thorontur's eyes darkened. "Thranduil would never forgive me if I kept it from him. I find myself wondering if he will forgive me for having kept it from him as long as I have done already."

"What if the same suspicion enters _his_ mind that has entered mine? _Adar_ , thanks to Calathiel's lack of… discretion… there is not an Elf in the stronghold who does not know she feels Saeldur discriminates against her unfairly."

"All the same…"

"Melda is right," Celebwen said suddenly.

Thorontur stared at her. "You cannot believe your own daughter would commit high treason?"

"I believe my daughter is fool enough not to realize what she is doing." Celebwen put a hand on his arm. "We will allow no harm to come to Legolas, of course, _meleth_. As Melda says, we can keep Calathiel away from him, and either Melda or I will mix Legolas' draughts and take them to him. But you know that Thranduil will show her no mercy if she has… done something."

"I cannot believe this is happening… Very well, but watch over Legolas. I will never forgive myself if…"

"I will keep him safe, I promise you."

* * *

What did you think? Good? Bad? Please review!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Not one Elf.

 **Author's Note:** I've got the chapter splits sorted out and it looks like this is going to run to six chapters. There may also be one more very short coda-ish story, to wrap up some of the loose ends in this, before I get to the final part of the arc, which will be set after _Practise to Deceive_.

In the meantime, enjoy this!

* * *

 **Part III**

 **27 September, Evening**

"My King?" Saeldur asked as he followed Thranduil down the corridor.

"I think, if there is an answer, Legolas has it," Thranduil said by way of explanation. "Perhaps he does not even realize it himself, but he _knows_. Who else _could_ know? Legolas knows who has seen him, who has handed him his draughts, who has spoken to him… He knows more than he told us earlier."

"Then it _was_ poison."

"It was poison." Thranduil kept his voice low. "Feredir and Barancrist both confirmed it independently."

"Elbereth Gilthoniel. I had my suspicions… But I hoped I was mistaken. I did not want to believe that the healers could conspire to…" He trailed off.

"We do not know if they were involved at all. We only know that there was poison in the cup. Anybody might have done it." Thranduil sighed. "If Legolas had _proof_ that someone tried to kill him, he would not have kept quiet about it."

"What do you intend to do, my King?"

Thranduil and Saeldur entered the passage leading to the royal quarters.

"Legolas will have an idea, even if he has no proof," Thranduil repeated. "His instincts are sound. I was hoping you might be able to help me persuade him to tell us what he suspects." At the door to Legolas' sitting room, he paused and turned to Saeldur. "You saved my son's life. I have not had the opportunity to thank you, but I hope you know how grateful I am."

"You owe me no gratitude, my King. Whatever I did to help Legolas, I did for his sake, not yours. Legolas is my friend and my brother in arms. There are no debts between us."

* * *

 **24 September, Night**

Rochendilwen was glad to dismiss the archers at the end of training. It had been one of the most dismal performances she had ever seen. She did not want to be too hard on them – she understood that they were anxious about Legolas' delayed recovery.

All the same…

She made her way home, wanting to wash up before she went to see how Legolas was.

Her aunt was still awake, pacing through the sitting room as she only did when she was too disturbed to sleep. Rochendilwen suppressed a sigh. Lady Mídhaer was not the only one who had been unable to rest for the past few days. She, at least, was spared from the fear that kept Rochendilwen and her friends from a moment's peace.

A glance at her aunt's face, though, made Rochendilwen wonder if she really was spared from that fear.

"Legolas seemed tired in War Council today," Mídhaer said, her tone carefully casual.

"He _is_ tired." Rochendilwen hoped to avoid a discussion that would ultimately help nobody. "He is trying to do too much."

"I daresay he is, but it seemed like more than that."

"As to that, I could not say."

"Rochendilwen." The edge to her aunt's tone made Rochendilwen stop and face her. "I am not a fool. Legolas is so exhausted I am frankly surprised that he manages to sit through the sessions without collapsing. Nobody sees him outside the council chamber. Celebwen is furious with everyone and Thorontur refuses to acknowledge that Legolas is unwell. Would you care to explain?"

Rochendilwen bit her lip. She trusted her aunt, she _did_. Lady Mídhaer was loyal to the Elven-king and fond of Legolas. But Saeldur was right. Nobody was above suspicion. She could not take the risk.

"You know Legolas, my lady. He will not listen to the healers."

"I know that Legolas is not as foolish as that statement would make it seem. He might chafe at restrictions, but he would not risk his healing because he was bored of being confined to his room." She sighed. "I understand, Rochendilwen, and I am not asking you to betray your commanding officer. But this cannot continue." She paused. "I hope Thranduil and Arbellason return soon."

"The King would hardly stay away at a time like this."

"The King has stayed away for _days_ while Legolas, it seems, is having a belated reaction to an injury. I hope you and your friends have realized, Rochendilwen, that that indicates a high degree of competence in whoever is doing this. That Legolas did not tell Thranduil he was unwell is not surprising. I gather that Thorontur was willing to accede to his wishes. But a large amount of correspondence goes to the King's party every three or four days. I find it very difficult to believe that not one Elf has mentioned the fact that the stronghold is full of rumours that the Prince of Eryn Galen is dying."

"Legolas is _not_ dying," Rochendilwen said fiercely. "But you are right, of course. I thought… to be honest, we all thought everyone believed it _was_ Orc poison or a delayed reaction to his wound."

"Most people do think that, but Thranduil does not appoint fools to his council. To tell you the truth, Ellaurë _did_ write to him when, after a couple of days when we thought he might be recovering, Legolas suddenly began to grow worse. She had her suspicions then."

"What did the King say?"

"Nothing," said her aunt grimly.

"I am frightened," Rochendilwen confessed. "It feels as though nothing we do is going to be enough. Whether we give the healers access to Legolas, or deny it… Elbereth. He needs more skill than we have, but… We are fumbling in the dark. We _cannot_ lose Legolas." She looked at her aunt pleadingly. "Have you any idea who might do this?"

Mídhaer gave a short, bitter laugh. "I would stake a great deal that Míron is involved, but he is far too careful to be caught – and, in any case, he has not been near Legolas or any food, drink or medicine intended for Legolas. He has help."

* * *

 **27 September, Evening**

Thranduil found Aeroniel and Rochendilwen engaged in what he _hoped_ was a friendly re-enactment of some ages-old battle as Legolas looked on in amusement. They scrambled to stand at his entry, hastily smoothing down tunics and straightening braids. Aeroniel kept Legolas sitting with a hand to his shoulder.

Legolas was pale, but he looked far stronger than he had when Thranduil had seen him last. He was still smiling.

"As much as I hate to disturb what looks like an exciting contest," Thranduil said with genuine regret, "I must speak to you, Legolas. You may stay," he added to Aeroniel and Rochendilwen.

He sat, indicating with a gesture that Aeroniel and Rochendilwen should resume their seats. Saeldur pulled another chair up to the table.

"There was poison in the cup." It was best to be direct. He waited a moment. When nobody looked surprised, he went on, "Legolas, who did it?"

"My king, I would never… never dream of accusing anybody… without proof."

Legolas' voice was steadier as well. Thranduil took a moment to enjoy that before he pressed the point.

"Thorontur and Celebwen seem to think Calathiel did it. They tried to conceal it, but Thorontur forgets how long I have known him. What Calathiel thinks I do not know. I find it very difficult to believe she would poison anyone, you least of all. But I was not here. You were." He leaned forward. "I know you have no proof, Legolas. And I know you know who it was."

"Tell us and we can _find_ proof one way or another," Saeldur urged.

"If I am… wrong…"

"Trust us." Saeldur reached out to squeeze Legolas' shoulder. "Do you think we are going to force you to live with the guilt of having had an innocent Elf condemned for treason? We will handle it, Legolas."

Legolas sighed. "Not Calathiel.

"No," agreed Thranduil. "She has faults, but the tendency to murder is not one of them." Even as he spoke, he felt his heart sink. "Celebwen?"

Legolas shook his head. "Never."

"Lady Celebwen would never hurt him," Aeroniel murmured. "She has always been fond of Legolas. It cannot be a charade."

"Trying… trying to protect… her daughter."

"Her daughter." Thranduil let out a breath. "Not Calathiel… _Melda_?"

Legolas met his eyes, half acknowledgement and half regret.

"I never imagined – I never for a moment supposed – she has always been the least… the least noticeable of Thorontur's children. I would never have thought she would involve herself in high treason. Elbereth Gilthoniel." A sudden suspicion assailed him. "Legolas, tell me you did not know she was poisoning you and let her keep doing it because you did not want to make accusations."

" _Adar_ , no… I never… never suspected… anybody was trying… to hurt me… until…"

Legolas paused, struggling for breath. Saeldur took up the thread.

"Until I pointed it out to you," he murmured. "I suppose _then_ you knew it had to be Melda. But she was going nowhere – Eredhion and Voronwë made certain of that. And you had no proof."

"We still have no proof," said Aeroniel. "I do not doubt you, Legolas, but how are we to prove that Melda is guilty?"

"Tax her with it." Rochendilwen's eyes were so dark Thranduil felt a moment's fear that she would hunt Melda down and kill her before justice could run its course. "She is a traitor. There is no need to be subtle. Direct confrontation is the best option."

"As little as I would like to advocate caution," Thranduil said, "Legolas is right. We must have proof."

"The… _honey_ ," Legolas said, his eyes widening in sudden realization.

"Of course," Saeldur breathed. "Melda always sweetened the draughts. She went out of her way to persuade Lady Celebwen to let her do it. The honey pot is the only thing I have seen nobody else touch."

* * *

 **12 September, Afternoon**

Saeldur waited until everyone but Lord Thorontur and Lady Celephindeth had left before he went, uninvited and without knocking, into the council chamber.

Legolas' eyes brightened as they met his. It did little to hide the pallor of his face.

"You have returned! Did you have a peaceful ride?"

"We killed some Spiders along the way," Saeldur said dismissively. "Nothing out of the ordinary. As to _peace_ , having to hunt down some vermin did not affect mine nearly as terribly as the letter from Aeroniel informing me that my prince was attempting to kill himself by failing to rest when necessary."

A flush rose in Legolas' face.

Saeldur glanced at his mother and Lord Thorontur.

"My lady, my lord – if you will excuse us."

Lady Celephindeth rose and left, patting Saeldur on the arm on the way out. Lord Thorontur took longer about it, but eventually he departed as well, and Saeldur was free to speak his mind.

"What were you _thinking_?" he demanded. "You are in no fit state to attend Council. Or supervise archery practice, or hear petitions, or do any of the other things everybody tells me you have been doing when you should be resting!"

"I am perfectly capable of attending Council. I can as well sit here as in my room."

"Tell me that when you do not look like you are dying. You look far worse than you did when I sent you home with Rochendilwen."

"Would you have me abandon my duties to the realm?"

"The realm needs you _alive_ and healthy. No great harm will be done if petitions are not heard for a few days. And you _know_ any of us would gladly take on your duties on the archery fields."

"I cannot ask more of my captains."

"No, you cannot ask more of your _captains_." Saeldur crossed his arms and glared at Legolas. "I thought we were your _friends_ as well."

"Saeldur."

"Legolas, please. _Please_ be sensible. You can attend Council if you feel you must, but stay off the archery field and cancel petitions – just for today. Come with me, get some _rest_ , and you will feel far better tomorrow, I promise you."

* * *

 **27 September, Evening**

"Here it is."

Saeldur held up the little green pot from which Melda had been tipping honey into Legolas' draughts. For a moment, Legolas was astonished she had not kept it on her person. Then he realized that she must have hoped to arouse less suspicion by leaving it with the other containers.

Saeldur sniffed it, shrugged, and covered the pot with a scrap of cloth.

"There is certainly something other than honey in it." He wrapped a length of string around the rim to secure it. "One of the healers will have to identify it."

"That will not be difficult." Thranduil took the pot. "I think you are in good hands for the moment, Legolas. I will speak to Feredir and Barancrist and see if I can sort this out."

"If I may, my king," Saeldur said, "I will stay with Legolas."

Thranduil nodded. "Of course."

After the king had gone, Aeroniel nudged Rochendilwen. "I think we should say something to the archers. They have been very worried about Legolas. We can at least reassure them that he is alive and we are nearing an end to this."

Rochendilwen took the hint; they hurried off.

Saeldur sank to his knees by Legolas' chair.

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "You cannot possibly tell me you think this is your fault."

"Whom else am I to blame? You did not want to return to the stronghold at all. I all but _forced_ you to come back, to _this_ , to Melda's treachery."

"You acted for the best," Legolas pointed out. "You were right. I did need a healer, and I would not have lasted long without one. If you had not forced me to return, I might not be alive now."

"I am sworn to defend you."

"None of us is equipped to deal with treachery."

"Do not _dare_ die, Legolas. I will never forgive you." Saeldur dropped his head. "I will never forgive _myself_."

* * *

 **25 September, Morning**

Legolas watched the Elves file out of the council chamber, responding with the calmest smile he could manage to all the anxious glances that were cast in his direction. As he had expected – and feared – Lord Thorontur stayed behind when the others had left.

"May I have a word, my prince?"

"Of course, my lord," responded Legolas, determined not to react to the stiffness in the Archery Master's tone. "If I may be of service in any way…"

"Why do you not trust Celebwen?"

It appeared Thorontur had no intention of mincing words. That was just as well. Legolas was too tired for a long conversation.

"My lord, I trust Lady Celebwen completely."

Thorontur scoffed. "She is grieved to be barred from your room." The chamber door opened to admit Eredhion and Voronwë, but neither Legolas nor Thorontur paid them any heed. "And if her only grief were the insult to her and to the loyalty she has always shown your father – the loyalty _I_ have always shown your father, and the love I bear for you – I would say nothing about it. It is not for me to question my prince's decisions. But you are harming yourself."

Legolas sensed movement from Eredhion and Voronwë and knew that either or both of them would willingly intervene and use the prerogative of the Royal Guard to take the burden of a response off his shoulders. But he owed Thorontur more than that. He owed his father and the realm more than that; he was not regent in the King's absence in order to thrust difficult decisions on his friends.

"My lord," he said firmly, "I am sorry. As much as I respect you, and Lady Celebwen, I have no choice."

Thorontur's grey eyes surveyed him with an emotion Legolas could not name.

"I hope you know what you are doing, Legolas," he said. "Because if you do not, you will destroy everything your father has fought to preserve."

* * *

 **27 September, Night**

A glance at the note was enough confirmation for Thranduil.

"Eredhion," he said, without looking up from it, "please go to Lord Barancrist and send him to tend to Legolas. Go with him, so that Saeldur knows I have given my leave. Voronwë, please bring Feredir here at once."

He turned to hand the letters to Arbellason. As he did, he caught a glimpse of the expression on Thorontur's face. He could not quite read it – shock, perhaps, or fear.

Arbellason took only a moment to read both letters. His fingers tightened on them convulsively, knuckles going white. He started to speak, but Thranduil said tersely, "Not now." He kept his gaze on the sheaf of letters on his desk. He could not look directly at Thorontur or Celebwen; if he did he would not be responsible for his own actions.

When Feredir came, his eyes widened at the crowd in the room, but he said nothing. He bowed his head politely to the king and stood in silence.

It was several minutes before Thranduil could bring himself to break it.

"Feredir," he said wearily, "please repeat what you just said in your note."

"The sample of honey you sent me was poisoned, my king," Feredir said. "My king, what –"

Thranduil held up a hand to stop him. With his other, he pulled the little pot of honey from his robe and held it up.

"Melda." His voice was as even as he could keep it. "Do you recognize this?"

She knew that she had been found out, and, to her credit, she made no attempt to stave off the inevitable. Melda was Thorontur's daughter, after all; she had never lacked courage.

"I am not sorry," was all she said.

Thorontur and Celebwen turned to stare at her. From the shock on their faces, Thranduil dared hope they had, at least, not been directly involved in her actions. For what they _had_ done he did not know if he could ever forgive either of them, but he was grateful Legolas would not have to bear the burden of knowing one of the Elves he trusted most had tried to kill him.

" _Melda?_ " Celebwen whispered. "I cannot… tell me it is not true. Please. Tell me it is not true."

"Would you have me lie to you, _Naneth_?"

"But _why_?" Thorontur asked. "Why would you do this thing?"

"I did what I had to do in the interests of the realm." Melda faced Thranduil directly. "I know your judgement will be severe, my king. I expect no less. It was a risk I took – and a price I pay gladly. I would have been happier to have been given a few days more, a few days to ensure that not even Lord Barancrist's best efforts would save Legolas. But even now I have hope of that."

Thranduil took a deep breath, and then another. He could not be fair now, could not even think of justice, and he did not want to do anything that would lower him in Legolas' eyes.

"Voronwë."

"My king?"

"Please escort Lady Melda to one of the cellars and lock her in it. Keep the keys with you. Then go to Legolas. Arbellason, stay here. Everybody else is dismissed."

"Thranduil," Thorontur began.

" _Dismissed_ ," Thranduil repeated.

* * *

 **14 September, Afternoon**

"The rosters for next week –"

" _Enough_ ," Aeroniel said firmly. "No more talking, Legolas. You will never heal if you do not let yourself rest."

"But –"

"Legolas." Saeldur took the sheets from his hands. "Is this your way of punishing me for leaving you to handle the rosters last month? Because, if so, an order would have sufficed. There was no need to put yourself through this."

Legolas shook his head. Before he could say anything, there was a knock on the door.

"That will be one of the healers," said Aeroniel, going to open it.

It was, in fact, two of the healers. Calathiel hovered behind Melda as she unwound the bandages to see how the wound was healing.

"You look better," Melda murmured. Saeldur opened his mouth to protest – Legolas looked worse than he had the previous night, if anything – and then closed it again. Melda was a healer. She could judge Legolas' state of health without Saeldur's assistance. "How do you feel?"

"Better." Legolas' voice was tight with exhaustion and pain. Saeldur met Aeroniel's eyes over his head. She looked as disbelieving as he felt.

"Good. That is good." Melda got to her feet and went to the table. "Take a draught now. It will let you sleep easily. In the morning, we will see about letting you attend council."

Legolas nodded acquiescence.

Saeldur felt a twinge of unease. Melda and Lady Celebwen both said Legolas was recovering. But Saeldur had seen Legolas recovering from injuries before, and this was not what it looked like. He might not disregard the healers' advice as much as their teasing suggested, but he was never this quiet and pliant either. It was as though the fire of his spirit had been quenched. It frightened Saeldur more than he could put into words.

Melda finished mixing the draught, handed the cup to Legolas, and left. Calathiel did not go with her.

"Drink it and try to sleep, Legolas," Calathiel said after a moment's silence. "We will let you rest."

A jerk of her head had Aeroniel and Saeldur following her out of the room.

"Something is wrong," Calathiel said as soon as the door was shut. "I do not know what. It is impossible that my mother made a mistake with the antidote. She knows more about poisons and their cures than any Elf in the realm. But Legolas is not healing."

Aeroniel let out a breath. "I thought that was my imagination. I _hoped_ it was my imagination."

"Melda says a slow recovery is not uncommon," Saeldur pointed out, though he knew he was only voicing a desperate hope. "Perhaps he must get worse before he gets better."

"With all my heart I hope so. But I fear the poison has gone too deep."

"Too deep?" Saeldur asked, his stomach dropping. "What do you mean? What must we do?"

"I think…" Calathiel's eyes were too bright. "I think there is nothing we _can_ do, other than make him comfortable."

Saeldur heard Aeroniel gasp and wrapped an arm around her shoulders even as he felt his own eyes stinging.

"Legolas will not die." He had no idea whom _he_ was trying to deceive. "He will recover. He will never let us forget it if we doubt that. Legolas _cannot_ die."

* * *

What did you think? Good? Bad? Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Not one Elf.

 **Author's Note:** So this is a longer chapter than usual… And it finally has some explanations. ;-)

Many thanks to everyone who reviewed, and I hope you enjoy this!

* * *

 **Part IV**

 **27 September, Night**

Thranduil listened to Barancrist's instructions, promised Saeldur he would send for him at once if there was any change in Legolas' condition, and then, finally, they left. Arbellason stayed, no doubt as anxious as Thranduil was himself – even more, if anything, since he had not seen Legolas at all that day.

"You look tired… _Adar_ …" Legolas murmured, making Thranduil laugh.

He took the chair in front of Legolas' and reached for his hand. His son's fingers were clammy, but they responded to Thranduil's squeeze with an answering pressure that gave him hope.

"Melda did not try to deny anything," Thranduil said.

"I would never have expected her to," commented Arbellason. "She would not try to delay the inevitable."

Legolas shook his head. "I do not… understand… _why_."

"Do not let it trouble you." Thranduil glanced down at Legolas' fingers resting in his. "Let us only be thankful we found out in time to stop her, and trust in Barancrist's skill. That you may yet be spared to me is the only mercy I can see in all of this."

"What did… Lord Thorontur… say?"

"Nothing." Arbellason pulled up a chair beside Thranduil's and took Legolas' other hand. "We have not spoken to him… yet. I very much fear, Legolas, that we will have to prepare to hear the worst – oh, I am not saying he would intend you any harm. He cares for you too much. He could never feign that if it were not real. But I suspect – indeed I am quite certain – that he knew, or had his suspicions, and did nothing."

Legolas nodded. He had guessed as much, Thranduil knew. What Thranduil did not know was how he could be so calm about it. He himself felt as though his head would burst if he dwelt too long on everything that happened.

"We will think about it in the morning," he said. "We will think about everything in the morning, including Melda. I have had her put in one of the cellars for the night."

Legolas looked at him apprehensively. "What do you…?"

"What do I mean to do to her?" Thranduil asked, to spare his son from having to force out the question. "You know the sentence for high treason, Legolas."

" _Adar_ , no."

"She tried to kill you."

"Killing her… will not help. _Adar_ … I know… you are angry… with her…"

" _Angry_ with her?" Thranduil asked, not knowing whether to smile or curse. "Legolas, I am far past _angry_. What Melda has done… She has threatened that which above all things in Arda I treasure. She will know how I feel about it before I have finished with her."

"Please… show her… mercy." Legolas' fingers twitched in Thranduil's. " _Please._ "

"Why would you even ask that?" Arbellason

"I do not want… more… Elven blood… spilt on my… account." Legolas heaved a laboured breath. "There has been… _enough_."

Thranduil let out another unwilling laugh, leaning forward to kiss Legolas' forehead.

"You are truly your mother's son, Legolas." He met his son's eyes. "I will not do anything that would make you ashamed of me."

Legolas smiled. "Never… _never_ be… ashamed of you."

* * *

 **25 September, Morning**

"Perhaps…" Thorontur hesitated. "Perhaps it would be best to tell Legolas what we suspect."

Celebwen stared at him. "You cannot mean that! Give him time, Thorontur. He might be upset just now, because he is tired and fevered and in pain. We both know Legolas is incapable of being angry with _you_ for very long."

"I do not think Legolas is angry at all. But his friends do not trust either of us at the moment – and they are right not to trust us. If we tell the truth they might at least suffer _you_ to treat him."

"And what of Calathiel?"

"We do not _know_ that she has done anything wrong. It is only a suspicion. And even if she _is_ guilty, Legolas is soft-hearted. We can coax forgiveness from him, and then he will persuade Thranduil to show her mercy."

"Do you truly think _anyone_ could persuade Thranduil to show mercy to someone who tried to kill his son?" Thorontur hesitated. Celebwen pressed her advantage. "Why go as far as that? What would _you_ do if someone other than one of your own children poisoned Legolas?"

"Legolas is weakening, Celebwen. I can see it."

Celebwen's eyes softened. "I know he is. I have noticed it as well, and you are mistaken if you think that does not wrench at my heart. But Thranduil will be here in two days, three at most."

"He will. Then the truth _will_ come out, because Eredhion and Voronwë will tell him everything, and he will have answers one way or another. What do we gain by concealing anything now?"

"I do not know. Time! At least, thanks to his friends' intervention, we know nobody is poisoning Legolas now! Maybe his body will purge the poison on its own. If that happens there will only be suspicions, and Thranduil may not care enough to act on them."

"There is scant hope of that. You know Thranduil." There was an edge of bitterness in Thorontur's voice as he added, "We are to sacrifice Legolas to gain _time_."

"No." Celebwen laid a hand on his arm. "We will not sacrifice Legolas. He will not die in two days. You must trust me, _meleth_. I know this. I would not say it if I were not completely certain. Legolas is strong, and he is as stubborn as his father. He will not die so easily. When Thranduil comes –"

" _What_ will change when Thranduil comes?" Thorontur demanded.

Celebwen shook her head. "What would you have me tell you? I know you love Legolas. So do I. But I do not want to see my daughter executed for treason. Perhaps nothing will change when Thranduil comes, but that is all we have – that is our only hope of saving them both. Would you give it up?" She took his hands. "Two days. That is all. Two days. Legolas will not die in two days. I promise you that. If, in two days, Thranduil has not come… We will do whatever we must."

* * *

 **28 September, Morning**

Thranduil looked around the council chamber. Arbellason sat at his right hand. For once, Thorontur was not at his left. Ellaurë sat there instead, looking as grim as Thranduil had ever seen her. Legolas, of course, was not present; Saeldur had reluctantly taken his place. Thorontur and Celebwen waited at the back with Melda.

It was time.

"Melda," said Arbellason, "step forward."

Melda came. She stood straight and tall, radiating defiance. Thranduil studied her, feeling a pang of something between pity and sorrow. She was a fine young _elleth_. What could possibly have twisted her mind enough to make her contemplate such a terrible crime?

"My king," Melda said, before Thranduil could start speaking, "there is no need to waste everybody's time. What I have done I will admit. I poisoned Legolas. The poison was, as you guessed, in the honey I mixed in his draughts. It was a slow poison and it would have been an unpleasant way to die. I take it that my brother and Lord Barancrist between them are preparing an antidote. They may succeed, in which case Legolas will recover. If they fail, it would be kinder to kill him quickly than let him linger in his pain. I am sorry for what I had to do. I bear Legolas no ill will; I have always been fond of him. But I do not regret my choice, and I would do it again. Have you anything else of which to accuse me?"

Thranduil took a long, deep breath. "You speak boldly for one who is confessing to high treason."

"We must all make difficult decisions. I am willing to stand by mine."

"Tell me why you did this."

"Danger is upon us. I have seen it. We have all seen it! The Shadow grows in Dol Guldur. The nights lengthen in the forest. The Enemy is gaining strength. Which of us does not know this?"

"All this is true," Arbellason said quietly. "But if you have seen this, why would you want to deprive the realm of one of her finest warriors?"

"Legolas might be a competent archer, but he is _weak_. His heart is too soft. Your archers need a stronger commander, my king."

Thranduil saw Saeldur open his mouth angrily, and gestured to him to be silent.

"Melda," said Ellaurë. "You are not yourself a warrior. You have never seen Legolas' actions on the battlefield. Therefore I can only assume that someone else has encouraged you to believe this. Tell us who has whispered these lies, and you may find greater mercy from us than you deserve."

"I ask for no mercy, my lady. My actions were my own."

"You lie."

Melda simply compressed her lips. Thranduil exchanged a glance with Arbellason. He knew that expression; he had seen it often on Thorontur's face. Whoever Melda's co-conspirators were – and Thranduil was willing to stake a great deal that Míron was one of them – she intended to protect them with her silence, no matter what the cost.

"Very well," said Thranduil. "Since you have confessed to high treason, and have nothing to say in your defence, I think we can proceed."

Celebwen stepped forward. "My king, may I speak?"

Thranduil could not answer for his actions if she began pleading on Melda's behalf, so he shook his head curtly. "You may not, Lady Celebwen. Melda… you should be very grateful indeed for Legolas' soft heart, because it is that which saves you now. Legolas begged me last night to spare your life, and since I am unwilling to add to the distress your actions have already caused him, I am going to let you live."

Melda's eyes flashed. "If that is your only reason, I do not want your mercy, my king. I do not want my life as a gift from Legolas."

" _Melda!_ " Thorontur hissed. "Be _silent_."

Thranduil only shrugged. "In truth, Melda, I do not care at all what you want. Your lack of repentance makes it clear that you will only attempt Legolas' life again if given the opportunity. You are therefore exiled from the realm of Eryn Galen. I would advise you not to attempt to linger here; the archers Legolas commands are loyal to him. I do not know if even a direct order from me will keep you safe from them once they know the extent of what you have done."

"Legolas should be commanding no archers." There was something in Melda's voice that made Thranduil pay attention. "I have learnt truths of which you are yet ignorant, my king, and one of those truths is this: if we are to have victory over the Enemy, a victory that lasts longer than a handful of years, if he is to be driven into the outer darkness where his master now dwells, then the archers must ride against Dol Guldur without Legolas. He must not command them. He must not be among them."

"You know nothing," snapped Saeldur. "I can assure you, Melda, the archers will have no commander other than Legolas. If we do not ride with Legolas, we do not ride."

Melda's eyes turned on him.

"You will see, when the time comes, that I am right. And I will tell you something else, Saeldur. Your beloved commander's tendency to show too much kindness to the undeserving may yet bring about the doom of Middle-earth."

"Saeldur," Thranduil said, "silence. Melda, you have two days to say your farewells and gather any possessions you wish to take with you. You will be escorted to the borders of the realm. You may go to Imladris or Lothlórien if you wish, but, given that Legolas has friends in the household of Lord Elrond, you may not be welcomed. I advise you to travel to Mithlond and leave Middle-earth on the next ship that will take you. You do not yet have Elven blood on your hands. The choice is yours."

* * *

 **17 September, Morning**

"Mídhaer!"

Mídhaer stopped and turned at the sound of Ellaurë's voice. The sight of the other _elleth_ made her start; Ellaurë's normally tidy golden hair was escaping the confines of its braids. She looked as though she had run across the stronghold.

"What is it?"

"I was looking for you on the practice fields. Inside." Ellaurë caught Mídhaer's arm. "We will be alone in my study."

Mídhaer found her alarm increasing. The commander of the Home Guard was one of the most unflappable Elves she knew; to see Ellaurë look as though she feared something terrible and nameless made Mídhaer's stomach twist.

"What is it?" Mídhaer asked again when they were in Ellaurë's study. "What has happened?"

"Have you noticed how Legolas has looked since he returned from the south?"

"He is certainly not healing as quickly as he ought. That has worried me as well. I spoke to Celebwen of it. She seems to think there is no cause for concern."

Ellaurë shrugged. "Celebwen might be mistaken. I spoke to her as well; I thought she seemed evasive. In any case, I wrote to Thranduil. Legolas has had far too many duties in his absence and no time to rest. That cannot be helping his healing. I thought hastening Thranduil's return might do some good."

"Thranduil's presence will probably do Legolas more good than any amount of Celebwen's medicines. That was a wise thought."

"Something is wrong, though." Ellaurë looked around, as though expecting an eavesdropper even in her study. "I sent the letter a few days ago. I have just had Thranduil's reply."

"What does he say?"

"Nothing." Ellaurë snatched a paper off the desk and handed it to Mídhaer. "Read it for yourself. He speaks of his talks with the men, troop movements, something about Dwarves in Arnor and something else about the _peredhel_ – but not a word about Legolas, not even to ask how he is."

"That is not like Thranduil." Mídhaer looked over the letter quickly. Legolas' name was not mentioned even once, and it was undoubtedly in the King's hand. "Do you think your letter was prevented from reaching him?"

"No; he responds to other questions I asked him." Ellaurë paused. "But it is possible that the pages about Legolas were lost or damaged if the courier was careless."

"Now that you mention it," Mídhaer said slowly, "Thranduil has not asked about Legolas' condition once in his letters to me. How likely is that?"

"You do not think… Does Thranduil _know_ Legolas was injured? Legolas asked Thorontur to say nothing of it. He did not want Thranduil distracted." Ellaurë rolled her eyes. "I do see his point, of course. Thranduil has trouble concentrating when Legolas is injured even when he is here in the stronghold. Away among the Men…"

" _Somebody_ must have told him, Legolas' wishes notwithstanding." Mídhaer bit her lip. "The Council would do as he asked, but with so many Elves in the stronghold it is inconceivable that nobody has said anything… I do not like this, Ellaurë."

"Nor do I. Do you think we should try to tell him again?"

"Send him another letter, by all means, but do not be surprised if, by an odd coincidence, those very pages are lost or torn again… I think I will speak to Celebwen in greater detail."

"You do not think…"

"That there is something unnatural about this?" Mídhaer said gravely. "I do not see how that can be so. Celebwen assured me she or one of her daughters personally vets every single thing Legolas eats or drinks, and Eredhion and Voronwë have been standing over him like watchdogs. Perhaps it is no more than too much exertion."

"I hope you are right."

* * *

 **28 September, Morning**

"Thranduil – I do not have the words to thank you –"

"I would not have you thank me," Thranduil told Celebwen coolly. "I did it for Legolas' sake."

"And perhaps," Arbellason growled, glare taking in both Celebwen and Thorontur, "the two of you should have considered _that_ before deciding to sit back and _allow_ Legolas to die."

"Arbellason –"

"You know Legolas! You know he is easily moved to pity – that was your daughter's chief objection to him, after all. Why in all of Arda did you not simply tell Legolas everything and _ask_ him to intercede with Thranduil? What he did last night he could have done with equal effectiveness even if he had _not_ been inches from death."

Thorontur flinched. "How is he?"

Thranduil shook his head. "Have you no duties to attend to?"

"None that could distract me from the fear of knowing Legolas is in danger. I can live with your anger, Thranduil. I deserve it. But you know I love Legolas – I could not love him more if he were my own son. If I could spare him his present pain at the cost of my life I would do it."

"This is hardly the time for your protestations."

"Thranduil, _please_. How is Legolas?"

Thranduil steeled himself to meet Thorontur's gaze without emotion. "I believe you, but I do not think I can discuss this with you. Not yet."

"May I see him?"

About to refuse, Thranduil hesitated. "That is not my decision to make. I will ask him, but I will not force him to see you if he does not want to."

Thorontur sighed. "Legolas will forgive me. I know him well enough to know that. Will you?"

"I believe you," Thranduil repeated.

"That is not the same thing. I know I betrayed your trust. I do not blame you for being angry. But my only crime was a surfeit of confidence in my own cleverness. I never intended that harm should come to Legolas – I never for a moment imagined that it would. I thought Celebwen's watchfulness, and mine, would keep him safe."

Arbellason responded before Thranduil could.

"Legolas nearly _died_ ," he growled, "because you _knew_ somebody was trying to harm him and you decided to watch and do nothing to prevent it! He might _still_ die. You want forgiveness? You should be grateful you have not been exiled alongside your treacherous daughter!"

"Perhaps I should, but that could not be a worse punishment than knowing I have… I cannot expect you to understand."

"Why? Because I have no children whose malice I must defend at the cost of one I claim to hold as dear as any child of my blood?"

"Arbellason," Thranduil said quietly, "this is not helping."

Arbellason nodded, jaw set. "You are right. This is not helping. Thorontur, I cannot believe you would… Thranduil worried, do you know that? Away in the mannish lands, when we had no tidings of Legolas for _days_ , he worried. But I told him you were there and _you_ would look to Legolas' wellbeing as carefully as he would himself."

"About that…" Thorontur paused. "There is one more thing I must confess."

"What?" Arbellason demanded. "That you poured the poison in Legolas' cup yourself?"

Thorontur ignored him and addressed Thranduil. "Ellaurë tried to persuade Legolas to write to you, to tell you of his injury and ask for your return. He said he did not want to worry you of course, but he might have done it all the same… I…"

"You dismissed Ellaurë's concerns and told Legolas there was no need to bother me."

"I did not have to go as far as that. Legolas was – tired, ill, everything – and he gave the matter no more than a passing thought. He was far too tired to write to you. But that is not all. You know I have been gathering all the correspondence in my study for the courier to collect. More than once I had the distinct impression that it had been tampered with."

"You mean somebody removed any mention of Legolas or his injury from the letters," Thranduil said flatly.

"And you did nothing about it?" Arbellason sounded incredulous. "Did you not think it was important for us to know? Or… Did you do it yourself, to keep us away?"

"I would do no such thing! Thranduil, please –"

"Do not ask for forgiveness. Legolas may have it for you, but I do not." Thranduil forced himself to stay calm. "I thought our friendship meant more to you than this."

* * *

 **25 September, Morning**

"We have a confirmed report." Míron's brows were drawn together as he paced the room. "Thranduil is returning. He will be here the day after tomorrow. Arahael, have you made any progress with Saeldur?"

"He is determined." Arahael's tone was equal parts disappointment and anger. "I should have known he would not have the stomach for this."

"It does not matter. He has made our work a little more difficult, but that will not stop us." He sat down, looking seriously at his wife and son. "We are agreed? We have gone too far along this path to turn back now. There will not be another chance. No matter what anyone does, Legolas must die."

"If his friends will not let anybody near him –"

"That is a minor obstacle, no more. Do you think Saeldur will keep his silence once the deed is done?"

"I do not see how he can do otherwise. If he were going to betray us, he would have spoken by now. Saeldur cannot give us away without giving himself away as well."

"He will never dare to do that," agreed Arahael's mother. "His betrayals are far greater than anything of which we are guilty. _We_ are only concerned Elves acting in the best interests of the realm. Saeldur is one of Legolas' most trusted friends. If anyone hears the slightest whisper of what he has said and done in our company, the vengeance that falls on him will be terrible."

"So be it." Míron picked up a dagger that lay on the table, running his thumb carefully along its edge. "We will be watchful. Remember, we only need _one_ opportunity, but those who guard Legolas must be vigilant every moment. We will have our chance. We must be prepared to seize it."

* * *

 **28 September, Afternoon**

"I cannot _believe_ you thought I would poison Legolas!" Calathiel fumed. "What possible motive could I have for doing such a thing?"

"I am sorry," Celebwen said helplessly, wishing they were having this conversation anywhere but in the council chamber, with Elves still milling about hoping to hear news of Legolas. "You seemed so… disappointed… not to be allowed to ride with the archers. And you put it to Legolas that he would not have been so ill if you had been able to help him at once."

"You thought I poisoned Legolas so I would be allowed to ride with the archers."

"Calathiel." Thorontur looked weary. "I am truly sorry. You have not always been… restrained… in how you express yourself when the matter is in question."

"This was all because you doubted me." Calathiel ran her hands through her hair. "You would not be open with Eredhion and Voronwë. You would not send word to the King. Legolas is _dying_ because you thought I was a murderer!" She drew in a shuddering breath. "Because I have not always been _restrained_."

"Calathiel –"

"Legolas is my _friend_! After all this time, do you still not understand what that means? Do you still think I lack courage because I have not taken up arms in defence of the realm? You were afraid of what the consequences might be to me. If ever I fall far enough to attempt the life of the prince… I would rather know that you would stop me, no matter what the cost, than that you would let him die to protect a traitor."

"Do you think it was an easy choice?" Thorontur burst out. "I have been tormented by it."

"Calathiel."

Saeldur's quiet voice cut into what Calathiel had been about to say. That was probably for the best, she reflected as she turned to him.

"Saeldur, I am so sorry. Tell Legolas I am… I am deeply ashamed. If I had not been so… so foolish in the past, if I had not given people reason to believe my eagerness might overcome my sense, it might never have come to this."

"You have not always acted wisely," Saeldur acknowledged. "But _this_ is not your doing. Legolas would not want you to blame yourself. I speak on behalf of Aeroniel and Rochendilwen as well when I say we are grateful to you. You were the only healer willing to tell us the truth."

"How is Legolas?"

"He was a little better this morning. Feredir and Barancrist have hope." Saeldur paused. "I expect he will want to speak to you when he is on his feet again."

"Legolas will be well."

"Of course he will." Saeldur smiled for the first time that day. "He knows full well that if he dares to die, I will drag him back from the halls of Mandos so that I can kill him myself."

* * *

 **18 September, Morning**

Legolas would have protested that he needed no supervision, but, since Saeldur had had to help him dress, he doubted any argument would get far. All the same, he thought that Saeldur, Rochendilwen _and_ Eredhion hovering outside the door to the council chamber was excessive.

They came in as soon as he dismissed council, not even making a pretence of being polite to the Elves filing out.

"Take this." Eredhion put another of Lady Celebwen's draughts in his hand.

Legolas scowled. The last thing he wanted was to have his senses dulled and his mind numbed. But Eredhion's expression was implacable. He sipped at the draught, hoping he would be able to get away with taking as little as possible.

Eredhion rolled his eyes and glanced at Saeldur and Rochendilwen. "I have to go. Make certain he finishes it."

Legolas would have asked where Eredhion was going, but he could not muster the energy. He watched his friend leave, Aeroniel arriving almost immediately after.

"The sooner you drink it, the sooner it will be done," Rochendilwen said. "Why the sudden objection to the medicine, Legolas? You have been willing enough to take it all this time."

Legolas opened his mouth to respond, thought better of it, and shook his head. There were some things he could not admit, not even to his closest friends – perhaps _especially_ not to his closest friends.

He should have known they would not let him off so lightly.

"Legolas." Saeldur's voice was gentler than usual, as though he was afraid to speak too loudly. "You know you do not have to be strong for us."

Legolas let out a breath. "If these are going to be my last days in Middle-earth," he murmured, "I do not want to spend them… unaware." He half-raised the cup. "I would rather know the world I must leave."

The silence that followed his words was broken by Rochendilwen. "You are not going to die!"

"Not while we are here to prevent it," agreed Aeroniel.

"I do not know how long I can fight it," admitted Legolas. "I am tired."

"You cannot give up. Not now. Not like this." Saeldur's words were spoken in the same low hiss he had used to order the archers to slaughter the Orcs. "Not when we are fighting so hard for your life."

"Saeldur –"

"You cannot lose your courage now!"

He rose abruptly and left the room, leaving Aeroniel and Rochendilwen staring after him in stunned silence.

Legolas sighed. "I will speak to him."

* * *

What did you think? Good? Bad? Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** Not one Elf.

 **Author's Note:** I'm a little late! Sorry about that.

Many thanks to everyone who reviewed. Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

 **Part V**

 **28 September, Afternoon**

"What did Melda say?"

Saeldur was relieved to hear Legolas speaking in complete sentences again, no longer struggling for each word. They were alone in Legolas' sitting-room. The King and the Prince's guards were still occupied with the aftermath of the morning's events, and Aeroniel, Rochendilwen and Colfind had been despatched straight out to the archers to ensure that they did not attempt to extract their own brand of justice for their commander's suffering.

"She had little to say for herself that bears repeating." Saeldur leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Her mind has been twisted by lies."

"I must know."

Saeldur met his friend's eyes. "She said that when the time comes to face the might of Dol Guldur, we will have no victory if you command the archers." He shrugged. "As I said, her mind has been twisted."

"Perhaps not." Before Saeldur could protest, Legolas went on, "Mithrandir said… the same thing."

Legolas' words were slowing, a sign that he was not as much stronger than the previous day as Saeldur had hoped, but his last statement could not be allowed to go unchallenged. Saeldur had never taken Mithrandir for such a fool as to suggest that the presence of the finest of the realm's archers would be anything but an advantage.

He said as much, making Legolas laugh.

"You need not be so… jealous of my… honour. Mithrandir… meant no offence."

"What did he mean, then?"

"Only that… my duty… may lie… elsewhere."

Saeldur could not imagine where Legolas' duty would lie if not in his father' realm. That was a worry for another day; enough had been said on the subject for this one.

"No more talking. Feredir will not be pleased if I let you tire yourself out." He hesitated. He did not want to lay another burden on his friend now, but they were alone. Legolas seemed to be in a forgiving mood. There might never be a better time. "There is something I must tell you, Legolas."

Inquiring blue eyes turned on him. "What… what did… you do?"

About to launch into his story, Saeldur paused when he noticed Legolas was shivering slightly.

"Are you cold? You should have said something." He got to his feet. "I will fetch you a cloak."

And, he thought as he went through the connecting door to Legolas' bedroom, he would have a moment to decide how best to word his confession.

* * *

 **25 September, Afternoon**

"No."

"You do not understand, Rochendilwen." Calathiel's voice was surprisingly even. "I am not asking you to trust me. I do not blame you for being suspicious. Legolas has recovered from more serious injuries in the past. Naturally you suspect foul play. Look." She held out her arms. "I have nothing. You may check if you like. And you need not leave us alone. You and Eredhion and Voronwë can stand and watch."

"None of us is likely to know the difference if you give him something that will harm him," Rochendilwen pointed out, not unkindly. "I cannot let you see him, Calathiel."

"I will give him nothing. I will _do_ nothing other than see how he is. Then I will tell you what you can do for him. You can do it, or not. The choice is yours."

Rochendilwen glanced at Eredhion, who shrugged. "I suppose it cannot hurt to let her see him. But we _will_ be in the room."

"Of course."

Legolas' eyes had glazed over in dreams as he sat in a chair by the fire. He did not stir as Calathiel made quick work of checking the wound from the Orc's blade. It had healed a little. It should have been fully gone by now. She laid a hand on his cheek when she was done, frowning at the clammy skin.

"That will do," Eredhion said.

Calathiel stepped away at once.

"Well?" asked Voronwë.

"He is fading. But you already knew that."

"Is there anything we can do for him?"

"Would you agree to any potions or herb mixtures I suggest?" Three scowls met her gaze, and she sighed. "Then, no. There is nothing you can do for him. Change the dressing on the wound regularly. It will help prevent infection. But I doubt that will make a difference."

"It should have healed by now," Eredhion said, echoing Calathiel's thoughts.

"Yes." Calathiel shrugged. "I would probably have done the same in your place. Legolas _has_ been poisoned, and for all you know I am only saying this to lull you into a false sense of security and let me give him something. If I had been there…"

"Calathiel," Rochendilwen said dangerously. "This is not the time."

"I know. Forgive me; I meant no offence. I just wish I could have helped." She glanced at Legolas one more time. "Someone should write to hasten the King's return."

"We have done that," said Eredhion. "I trust he will be here soon."

Calathiel shook her head. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. "I will not tell you not to hope, but… You should say your farewells while Legolas is still coherent enough to hear them."

"Legolas is _not_ going to die," snarled Rochendilwen.

But, as she looked at the still figure with blue eyes gazing into a distant dream, she was not nearly as certain as she sounded.

* * *

 **28 September, Afternoon**

Míron had lost track of how long he had spent waiting in a concealed alcove outside the royal quarters. He had arrived in the early hours of the morning, when Thranduil had been with Legolas. He had waited as the minutes trickled by.

Feredir had been the first to arrive, before breakfast. He had come looking pale, drawn – as well he should. It was his own sister who was in a cell being questioned by the Royal Guard. Feredir must be upset. It was admirable that he was able to control his emotions on the matter enough to help Legolas.

Admirable.

Misguided.

Míron fingered the knife tucked into his robes. A sharp edge and a quick death was more than Legolas deserved, with how much suffering he had caused everyone else, but it would have to do.

His thoughts lingered on Melda. She was as strong-willed as her father. She would not reveal anything of Míron or any of their other friends, of that he was certain. She would not shake no matter the cost – and the cost might well be her life. She was guilty of high treason. She had acted against the realm's beloved prince. No matter how honest her motives, no matter how loyal she was to Eryn Galen, the Council would be united against her.

Míron's fingers tightened around the hilt of his knife.

This was why he had to end it. Legolas did not deserve the loyalty that was so eagerly given to him.

There was more activity now. Barancrist arrived, followed closely by Colfind and Rochendilwen. Colfind had barely been in to see Legolas, having been spending most of his time with the archers on the training fields to leave Saeldur free to sit with his friend.

Sure enough, Colfind emerged in just a few minutes.

Then came Saeldur and Aeroniel.

Míron was not entirely surprised that Saeldur had faltered at the last moment. He had been expecting as much. Saeldur and Legolas had grown up together, a bare handful of years separating them. Saeldur was bound to have some loyalty to his friend that could not be entirely eliminated, too much to see him lingering in pain.

No matter. It would be over soon. And Saeldur would make an even better ruler for having a spark of mercy in him, particularly if he was willing to be guided by Míron's wisdom.

Barancrist was the first to leave. He was followed closely by Feredir, then Saeldur, and finally Thranduil himself.

Aeroniel and Rochendilwen were staying with Legolas, then.

Míron sighed.

But he was patient. He would get his chance.

It came when, after Council must have ended, Saeldur returned, followed by the departure of Aeroniel and Rochendilwen.

Now. It had to be now, while only Saeldur was with Legolas. Saeldur might protest, but Míron could make him see reason. They could do it quickly and efficiently. Painlessly. Do it and slip away. There would never be a better chance.

* * *

 **18 September, Morning**

"Do you want to tell me what that was about?"

"You have no right," Saeldur growled. With only Rochendilwen and Aeroniel present, he would feel no hesitation in expressing himself. Legolas was not certain that was an entirely good thing. "You have _no_ right to give up so easily."

"I should not have said what I did."

"What does it matter what you _say_?" Saeldur caught Legolas by the shoulders, and would probably have shaken him if he had not been unwell. "Even if you had not said it, it would not change facts. You cannot give up. You owe a duty to the realm."

"What do you expect me to do, Saeldur?"

"I expect you to be the Elf I swore to serve!" Saeldur shook his head. "Do you remember the day I swore my oaths as your second, Legolas? Do you remember what _you_ promised _me_?"

"Saeldur –"

"You _swore_ you would be worthy of my faith. Is this how you are worthy? By giving up?"

"Saeldur!" Rochendilwen protested, but Legolas waved her objection aside.

"I _have_ tried to be worthy of your faith, Saeldur. I am sorry I have failed you."

There was a moment's silence. Then Saeldur dropped into the chair beside Legolas'. "You have _never_ failed me. Not once, not even when I failed you. Forgive me. I spoke in anger." He caught at Legolas' hands. "I have faith in you now. I have faith that you are strong enough to live, because you _know_ how much we need you."

"I do not know if I can."

"I do. You are more than our friend and your father's son, Legolas. You are our prince and commander of the archers. You have a responsibility to Eryn Galen. Your _fëa_ cannot leave Middle-earth yet." Saeldur's grip tightened. "Promise me. _Promise_ me you will not give up."

* * *

 **28 September, Afternoon**

Legolas looked up with a smile when the door opened, expecting to see his father or one of his friends.

Míron stood in the doorway, his face pale in the afternoon light. His eyes stared into Legolas' almost unseeingly.

Legolas felt a sudden chill, all the instincts of a warrior kicking in and making him reach for his knives before he remembered they were on the table in his bedroom.

"I thought Saeldur would be here," Míron said in a hoarse whisper. "But you are alone. _Alone._ "

Light glinted off the blade of a knife in Míron's hand. Legolas opened his mouth to call Saeldur, but, before he could make a sound, the knife was at his throat.

"One word," Míron hissed. "One word and you die."

At any other time, Míron could not have put a knife to Legolas' throat and hoped to live. Legolas was a trained warrior. The knife would have been out of Míron's hand in a heartbeat, Míron incapacitated in another. But Legolas was still too weak, his reflexes too slow. He knew he could not hope to disarm the other Elf before he carried out his threat.

"On your feet," Míron snarled, pulling Legolas up with his free hand. "To the door. Slowly. I do not want to burden Saeldur with the guilt of having allowed this if I can at all avoid it."

For a moment Legolas considered refusing to move. Míron did not intend that he should live to see another sunrise, no matter what he did. Legolas could at least deny him the satisfaction of his obedience.

But obeying would gain him time, perhaps enough time for someone to come. He had promised Saeldur he would fight to live.

Quietly, Legolas let Míron push him out the door.

His knees went weak with relief when he heard footsteps approaching down the corridor. Míron heard them as well. He wrenched Legolas' arm behind his back, simultaneously holding him on his feet and making certain he could not move.

His father, Arbellason and Eredhion appeared at the end of the corridor. Their eyes widened as they took in the situation. Their hands went reflexively to their weapons before they had even taken in the situation, but Míron gave Legolas a rough shake, making them go still as they watched him.

"Not another step!" Míron said, pressing the knife hard enough that Legolas felt it break skin. "Stay there and keep your hands off your swords! Move and he dies."

"Have you gone mad?" Arbellason asked incredulously.

"I mean it! I will cut his throat without feeling a moment's regret."

"You cannot hope to escape with your life if you harm the Prince of Eryn Galen," Eredhion pointed out, eyes darting around the corridor as he looked for an opening, a weapon, anything. "Whatever you want, this is not the way to get it."

"Release Legolas and we can talk," Arbellason added.

"I think not." Míron half-twisted Legolas' arm behind him. Legolas bit his lip on a cry of pain.

"Hurt my son," said the King, his voice colder than the depths of winter, "and I will show you no mercy. Hurt my son and I promise you, you will die. Release him now, unharmed, and I might let you leave Eryn Galen with your wretched life."

"I have no quarrel with you, Thranduil. But Legolas must die. It is best for us all." Míron kicked Legolas' legs out from under him. Legolas scrambled for his footing, but despite his best efforts he was on his knees, Míron's knife still at his throat. "I am sorry you must endure the sight of your son's death, but there is no choice."

Legolas met his father's eyes, blazing with a combination of anger and some other emotion Legolas could not identify.

He wondered if his father's anger was to be the last thing he saw.

* * *

 **25 September, Afternoon**

"Where have you been?"

Calathiel glanced at her father. "I went to see Legolas."

Thorontur sat bolt upright in his chair. "Eredhion and Voronwë permitted you to see Legolas?" He tried to keep the suspicion from his voice, but he knew he had not entirely succeeded.

"Only to see him," said Calathiel. "They would not let me do anything to… help him."

"How is he?"

"Dying. Slowly."

Thorontur shut his eyes. "Elbereth Gilthoniel. There will be no forgiveness."

"No forgiveness for what?"

He ignored his daughter's question, getting up to go in search of his wife. He found her in her workroom, shredding herbs. Her normally steady fingers were fumbling and shaking.

"Celebwen."

"You promised me two days."

"Legolas is dying. What do we gain by waiting for him to inch closer to death?"

"Thranduil will return. He will believe you, he will let me help Legolas, I will heal him, and that will be the end of it. Nobody ever needs to know."

"Celebwen, please. You are grasping at straws. I promised Thranduil I would look after Legolas." Thorontur sank into a chair, burying his head in his hands. "How am I to face him? How am I to face _anyone_? Celebwen, we are guilty of high treason."

"We are not guilty of high treason," Celebwen said. Her voice was far steadier than Thorontur's. "Thranduil is not here. Legolas is incapacitated. You are next in the chain of command. You have a right to take whatever decision you think is best."

"Best for the _realm_ ," Thorontur qualified. "I fail to see how I can justify to Thranduil that I thought it was best for the realm to sit and watch Legolas die."

"Legolas will not die. Trust me. If it comes to that point, we will tell Eredhion and Voronwë the truth and deal with the consequences. It has not happened yet."

* * *

 **28 September, Afternoon**

Saeldur heard raised voices. Dropping the cloak he had just taken out of Legolas' chest of drawers, he slid his knives from their sheath and stepped into the sitting room.

It was empty, but the door leading into the corridor was open.

Saeldur went to it, moving with the silent tread of the warrior. The scene outside made his blood run cold. Míron had Legolas, held in front of him like a shield, with a dagger to his throat. He could hear the King, Arbellason and Eredhion further down the corridor. The King sounded as though he wanted to introduce Míron to the sharp end of his sword, but he could do nothing while Míron hid behind Legolas. None of them could.

Elbereth.

Saeldur was about to make his presence known and order Míron to release Legolas, but something stilled his tongue. He had seen the glint of madness in Míron's eyes. He knew how desperate he was. He would not stop now, no matter what it cost him.

He had known for years – _decades_ , and longer. He had known, and he had told nobody because he had thought he could handle it. Míron had been free to pursue his schemes for centuries because Saeldur had thought he could handle it.

Míron was going to kill Legolas now. Saeldur knew it. Legolas was going to die, and it would be Saeldur's fault.

He had his bow, but he did not dare draw it. He was a fine archer, one of the finest in the realm, but he lacked Legolas' ability to keep his focus when the stakes were this high. In this tiny space, with no room for the shaft to straighten and fly true, with Míron pressed as close to Legolas as he was, Saeldur would never make the shot. He might miss.

He might hit Legolas instead.

Legolas was going to die because his second-in-command could not steady his hand on the bow.

Saeldur shook himself. Legolas was _not_ going to die. Not here, not like this.

Míron forced Legolas down to his knees. He was bent a little awkwardly so he could keep the knife at Legolas' neck while still watching the Elves in front of him.

Saeldur replaced his knives and drew his bow and an arrow.

He gauged distance and force. He had done this thousands of times in battle and on the training fields. He had never done it with Legolas' life hanging in the balance, but that made no difference. He could do this.

His first thought was to aim for Míron's shoulder, but if that did not incapacitate him, he would still have time to cut Legolas' throat before Saeldur could get off another arrow.

Saeldur could barely breathe. To kill foes in battle was one thing, but this was…

This was…

This was keeping his oath to defend Legolas.

He could not falter. He had caused this situation, keeping his secrets and thinking he was clever enough not to need anybody's help. Legolas' life was not going to be the price for Saeldur's stupidity.

Saeldur sighted down the length of the shaft, felt the tightness of the bowstring – not too tight, or it would go through Míron into Legolas – and released the arrow.

His hand shook, though. Having half expected it, he was already drawing another. His first arrow grazed Legolas' arm, making him slump a little. Míron scrambled to keep hold of him. That movement gave Saeldur the space he needed.

The second arrow flew true.

* * *

 **18 September, Night**

As late as it was when Saeldur returned to his room in the warriors' quarters, a few moments later, there was a knock on his door.

He opened it to find his mother standing outside. Her face was clouded with anxiety.

"How is he?"

"Weak," Saeldur said, stepping back so she could enter. " _Naneth_ , what are you doing here?"

"If he dies…" She shook her head, running her hands through her hair. "It will be my fault if he dies."

"How could it possibly be your fault?"

"He was taxing himself too much! I saw it. I spoke to him, but he said he was only a little tired, and I assumed Thorontur and Celebwen would never have let him attend Council if he had not been improving. I should have trusted my instincts." She looked at Saeldur, eyes dark with regret. "But he _was_ improving, Saeldur. I am sure of it."

"Perhaps he was simply forcing himself to look healthy," Saeldur suggested, guiding her to a chair. "Legolas is stubborn. He has survived worse injuries than this."

"I am not a fool, Saeldur. I have seen enough injured warriors to know when one is convalescing. Legolas was getting better… and then he was getting worse. Some sort of delayed venom on the sword was what Celebwen said it was. He was getting better." She accepted the cup of wine Saeldur gave her. "I should have said more about it. I should have _insisted_ he rest."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Saeldur laughed. " _Naneth_ , you do not have the authority to insist that the Prince of Eryn Galen should do anything, and we both know it is pointless to tell Legolas he should rest."

"Legolas has been a warrior long enough to know how far he can push himself. At least, usually he does."

" _Naneth_." Saeldur squeezed her hand. "It was not your fault. Believe me. Even if he was exhausting himself too much, how could you have known that Lady Celebwen was wrong to allow it? And I promise you Legolas is not going to die."

"I hope not."

It was much later, when his mind was walking the dream paths, that Saeldur realized the significance of what his mother had said. He came to full awareness at once, sitting up in bed and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

He had to speak to Arahael.

* * *

I know a lot of people were hoping for Thranduil to do what Saeldur did... But I felt like it needed to be like this. That's not to suggest that Thranduil won't have his say; he will, when the time comes.

What did you think? Good? Bad? Please review!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

Wow this is a long chapter! I considered splitting it, but in the end I didn't… Enjoy!

This is the end of this part of the arc. There are a couple of minor loose threads that I'll sort out in a one-shot, and one more major part of the overall story to go.

Many thanks to everyone who's reviewed and followed and favorited… I hope you had fun with this story! I know I had fun writing it.

* * *

 **Part VI**

 **28 September, Afternoon**

Saeldur did not know whether it was for Legolas' benefit or his own that he had settled himself beside Legolas at the window instead of helping the others. Eredhion, Voronwë and a hastily-summoned Feredir hauled Míron's body into an empty antechamber to prepare it to be returned to his family for burial. The King and Lord Arbellason conferred in low voices about how to handle the outcome.

It was true that Legolas, exertion and shock having sapped the little strength he had regained, was leaning drowsily on Saeldur's shoulder. It was also true that his friend's presence was the only thing keeping Saeldur grounded amidst the chaos in his head.

He had killed Míron.

He did not regret it for a moment. Of that, at least, he was certain. It might have been Legolas whose body was cooling on the other side of the corridor, Legolas being readied for burial. But Legolas was here, warm, _living_ , and Saeldur could not bring himself to wish he had not killed the traitor who had been about to murder his friend.

That frightened him more than anything.

Traitor or not, Míron had been an Elf, and Arahael had been Saeldur's friend until his sedition had forced Saeldur to choose sides.

"I am not sorry," Saeldur whispered, too softly for anyone but Legolas to hear.

"I know."

"Would you have ordered me to do it, if you had known what was going to happen?" Legolas opened his mouth, and Saeldur held up a hand to forestall him. "Tell me the truth. Do not say yes simply to assuage my conscience. Would you have ordered me to do it?"

Legolas shrugged. "I knew… I knew you would do… something."

Saeldur would have smiled at the fact that Legolas was stubborn enough to manage complete sentences when the occasion called for it, but his heart was too heavy.

"Legolas, do not avoid the question. Was it what you would have ordered?"

"No… I would not… have ordered it. I would never… never have wanted you… to have to bear the… the burden… Legolas paused for breath. "The burden… of taking the life… of an Elf."

"I could not let him kill you."

"I _know_ , Saeldur." Legolas patted his knee. "I do not… blame you… Nobody will."

It was Saeldur's fault, though. Legolas had no idea… Saeldur had known, perhaps not that Míron would find the courage to march into Legolas' sitting room with a dagger in his hand and murder in his heart, but he had _known_ that the Elf wanted to assassinate the Prince.

He had known, and he had thought he could _handle_ it.

Saeldur had had no choice but to kill Míron. He knew that. But it had come to that only because he had allowed the situation to run on unchecked.

Míron was dead because of Saeldur.

Legolas had been on his knees with a knife to his throat because of Saeldur.

Saeldur tightened the arm he had around Legolas' shoulders, wishing he had the words to confess everything. But he did not dare. Not now, with others present. Not later, when he could do it in privacy. Even Legolas' generous nature might not be enough to forgive the fact that his most trusted captain had been part of a conspiracy against his life.

And who would even _believe_ Saeldur if he said he had only done it to protect Legolas? He had intended to tell Legolas everything before Míron had interrupted them. Now it would only sound as though he had had doubts at the last moment and was trying to keep himself out of trouble for his part in it.

And his part in it _would_ become public. As soon as Arahael learnt what he had done…

It was better to confess, he knew. It was better that Legolas should hear it from him than from Arahael.

He still could not find the words.

* * *

 **25 September, Evening**

Thorontur had never in his life received as many dark looks and sullen glares as he did when he stepped onto the archery range to oversee the evening's training.

He set his jaw. The archers respected him, but they were completely, fiercely, _blindly_ loyal to Legolas. And they had apparently decided that he was threatening their prince. Thorontur knew Legolas, whatever differences they might be having, would never have let any anger show before the archers. But they would have been hard pressed to _miss_ the ever-present tension in the air.

There would be no quarter from them.

"Line up," he ordered.

They lined up, mainly, he suspected, because they did not want to suffer Legolas' displeasure if he knew they had disobeyed their Archery Master.

Thorontur glanced at the other end of the range. It should have been Saeldur's shift, but Colfind was on duty. That was just as well. Saeldur was likely to let his temper override his judgement. Colfind would at least make a pretence of friendliness.

As if to confirm that, Colfind gave him a curt nod and ordered the first volley.

Arrows thudded into targets with something less than the pinpoint precision and lightning speed Thorontur demanded from the realm's finest archers. He could not say if it was anxiety about Legolas or a minor act of rebellion.

He decided not to comment on it, strolling across behind the line to join Colfind as a second volley followed the first.

"Perhaps you should speak to them," he suggested in an undertone.

"Perhaps Legolas should speak to them," Colfind said. His voice was the right side of respectful, but just barely. He was not going to be as tractable as Thorontur had hoped. "I do not know that they are concerned about what anybody else thinks."

"You know that is unacceptable." It was a struggle for Thorontur to keep his words even. Arguing with Colfind would help nobody. "We expect discipline from our warriors."

"What of what the warriors expect from _you_?"

"The security of the realm is more important than any argument they might have with me."

Colfind's only response was a noncommittal grunt. Thorontur debated pursuing the issue, but decided against it. It was not the archers' fault, and certainly not Colfind's, that they had all been put in this position. If anybody else had threatened Legolas, Thorontur himself would not have rested until the offender had been brought to justice.

He hoped Thranduil returned before the realm devolved into chaos.

* * *

 **28 September, Afternoon**

Saeldur did not dare raise his eyes when Thranduil came to stand in front of them.

He had _killed_ a member of the King's council.

He had killed a member of the King's council, and all he could think about was that moment of heart-stopping fear when he had thought he would not be in time to save Legolas.

"I am not sorry I did it," Saeldur mumbled.

"Of course you are sorry," said the King briskly. "There is no need to deny it, Saeldur. There is no shame in regretting what happened."

Saeldur looked up, angry despite himself. "Legolas –"

"Legolas is safe and as well as he can be." Thranduil's eyes softened as they flickered to his son. "Arahael is your friend. It is a terrible thing to lose a parent. I know that. So does Legolas. There is no shame in regretting that Arahael must now know it as well."

"I would do it again."

"I know you would."

"What am I to tell Arahael?" Saeldur whispered.

Then he cringed, tightening his arm around Legolas again as though to prove to himself and everyone that he would do it again if he had to, that he had not, not for a second, considered lowering his bow. That was true; he _would_ do it again. All the same, it would be difficult to face Arahael.

" _Adar_ …" Legolas murmured.

Saeldur was silent as Thranduil met his son's gaze, wordless communication passing between them. They looked so similar in that moment, golden hair in warrior braids, anxious blue eyes, that he had to stifle a snicker.

Laughing. He felt like _laughing_ at a time like this. He must be losing his mind.

"I suppose you are right," Thranduil said at last. Legolas' hand landed comfortingly on Saeldur's knee. "Nobody needs to know the details. Míron came here to take the Prince's life and was killed in the attempt. That is enough for the council."

"But…" Saeldur looked from Legolas to Thranduil. "But then they are likely to think one of you did it."

Legolas shrugged. "Let them."

"I cannot let you take the blame for my actions."

"I would not describe it as taking the blame," said Arbellason, coming up to them. "Any of us would have done exactly what you did, if we had had a clear line of sight. Míron laid his hands on Legolas in the King's presence. He was never going to leave the situation alive. It was pure chance that the deed fell to you."

"He is quite right," agreed Voronwë. "An hour earlier or an hour later, and it might not have been you sitting with Legolas."

"What _am_ I to tell Arahael?"

"Saeldur," said Thranduil, "unless you wish it, nobody need even know that you were present. If you want to avoid difficult questions from Arahael, that will do it. But he is your friend. Míron was his father. Whatever personal differences any of us may have had with him, if you think he deserves to know the truth, we willrespect your wishes."

"He must have known what his father was planning." Saeldur did not know why he even said that, save that Thranduil looked too much like Legolas in that moment and he could not keep the words back.

"I suppose he did, but we will hope he will stop now." Thranduil and Legolas exchanged another glance. "Legolas is right. Enough Elven blood has been spilt over this. I am not going to add to it. Legolas is alive. Míron will no longer plot against him. I would have chosen less drastic means of achieving both objects, but it is done. We should lay this to rest."

* * *

 **19 September, Morning**

" _You_ are doing this."

Arahael raised his unemotional gaze to Saeldur's face. "You will have to be more specific."

"Legolas is dying."

"So I have heard." Arahael looked around, making certain they were alone in the corridor, before he drew Saeldur into an antechamber. "It is working, then."

Saeldur caught his breath, all his hope of being horribly wrong gone in that instant.

"What are you doing to him?"

Arahael shrugged. "Some poison or other. My father knows the details. It would have been better if you had stayed away longer. Then you would have been free of all suspicion."

"You have to stop."

"Stop? What for? We are close to success, Saeldur. We have never been this close, and it will happen without anybody knowing that we have anything to do with it."

Saeldur shook his head, searching his mind desperately for an argument – _any_ argument – that would sway Arahael.

"What is the problem?" Arahael said impatiently. "Saeldur, you know we have to do this."

"Not like this," Saeldur said, finding his tongue at last. "Arahael, this is cruel. Legolas deserves better than to die in pain."

"What did you expect? My father has been telling you for years to arrange an accident on patrol. If you had done that it could have been as quick as you liked. Since you would not, this was the best way."

"I will speak to your father, then," Saeldur decided.

"It will do you no good," Arahael told him, "unless you are prepared to meet his terms."

"What terms?"

"Legolas must die," said Míron's voice. Saeldur started. He had not heard Míron approach behind him; he felt disconcertingly outflanked. "I know it is difficult for you to do, or even to contemplate. I do not blame you. But if you want me to stop poisoning him now, I will require your promise that you will do it before the week is out. Cut his throat – smother him with one of his pillows – I leave the means to you. But Legolas must die."

Saeldur opened his mouth to promise, perfectly willing to perjure himself if that was the price of saving Legolas now. But Míron shook his head.

"Saeldur, you must _mean_ it. Because if you do not, you will only prolong his suffering. One way or another, Legolas is going to die. If you want it to be quick, the means are in your hands."

"Legolas deserves better than that."

"Then you have sealed his fate."

* * *

 **28 September, Evening**

"What happened to my father?"

Arahael's voice was flat. Cold. Emotionless. His eyes were flint. For a moment, even Saeldur was frightened of him.

He opened his mouth, fully intending to confess everything, but Arahael was speaking again.

"Lord Arbellason told me nothing. _Nothing!_ All he would say was that _Adar_ attempted the life of the Prince of Eryn Galen and was killed in the attempt, there were three witnesses including the King himself and therefore it has been judged unnecessary to make the details public with a debate in council. And the council has consented! Those fools are full of sympathy for their beloved warrior-prince having to undergo such a terrible ordeal on top of what he has already suffered!"

"Arahael, I must –"

"Did he tell you anything?"

"What? Who? Arbellason?"

"Not Arbellason," Arahael said impatiently. " _Legolas_. He tells you everything. Did he tell you what happened?"

"No, but –"

"I cannot believe he is gone," Arahael whispered, his inscrutable expression resolving into unspeakable grief.

And Saeldur found he could not speak. He _wanted_ to tell Arahael the truth, to have it out of the way before he spoke to Legolas, but he could not. Anger he could face without a qualm, but he was unequal to confessing his guilt in this. Thranduil had been right about one thing: it was a terrible thing to lose a parent. Arahael's grief was of Saeldur's making.

Saeldur drew in a breath. He would just have to tell Legolas everything first, and persuade Legolas to tell Arahael. Legolas was Saeldur's commanding officer; it was, strictly speaking, his responsibility… and Saeldur could not meet Arahael's eyes and admit that he had killed Míron.

He appreciated now just how much courage it had taken for Legolas to inform his mother of Candnaur's death.

Saeldur might not have the courage to make the confession, but he could do one thing.

"Arahael," he said, "do you not think it is time… we stopped?"

"Stopped what?"

"Trying to kill Legolas. It has brought only grief to everyone. Melda has been exiled. The King may never forgive Lord Thorontur and Lady Celebwen. Your father is…" Saeldur trailed off. "I think Eryn Galen has seen enough sorrow. We should not add to it."

"You cannot ask that of me. Legolas must die, now more than ever. My father is dead because of him!"

"Legolas did not kill your father."

"No, but someone killed him to save Legolas. Eredhion or Voronwë, I expect. If the King had done it himself, he would have said so. Two Elven lives were weighed and my father was judged less important than Thranduil's pampered brat."

"Arahael, you are grieving."

"I am, but I have never been clearer in my mind. _Adar_ died trying to rid the realm of Legolas. No matter what happens, I am going to fulfil his mission… Will you help me?"

"No." This had gone far enough. It had to be stopped. "We must put an end to this. I have spent days doing nothing but watching Legolas in pain, and it has ended in unhappiness for everyone. I cannot help you."

"You are worried about Legolas? What about my father? What about Melda? She has been exiled, and all she did was act in the best interests of the realm!"

"You are not thinking rationally. What you seek is vengeance –"

"You are right. I _do_ seek vengeance. Why not? What is Melda's exile if not vengeance?"

"Melda confessed to high treason. She was sentenced in court. The King would have had her executed if Legolas had not begged him to be merciful. He would have shown your father the same mercy if he had had the chance."

"You confuse weakness with mercy. Legolas will die. If it is my last act in life, I will see it happen."

Saeldur said nothing. There was no point reasoning with Arahael now.

He turned to leave.

"Saeldur," Arahael said. "If you have any foolish ideas of making a full confession to your _friend_ … Remember that, however _merciful_ Legolas might be, nobody can trust a traitor. You will condemn yourself. My father is already… already gone, and everybody feels sorry for me now. Nobody will take your word over mine."

"Legolas will."

"Will he? Even when he knows how terribly you have betrayed him, exposing all his weaknesses to his enemies, will he still take your word over that of a repentant, grieving son?"

Arahael's voice broke on the last word. He walked away abruptly, leaving Saeldur staring after him.

* * *

 **26 September, Morning**

"How is he?" Rochendilwen demanded.

Legolas' sitting room was full. Only Voronwë was to have been present, but Saeldur and Aeroniel, apparently unable to concentrate on anything, even training the archers, were there as well, and Eredhion had met Rochendilwen on the way and come with her.

It made Rochendilwen unaccountably nervous.

"He is no worse," Voronwë said quickly, guessing her thoughts.

"You look as though you have something to say," Aeroniel commented. "Please tell me there is good news."

Rochendilwen nodded, her anxiety dissipating when she remembered the tidings she bore. "The King is returning. My aunt told me that – she had it from Ellaurë. He should be here in the morning."

"Elbereth Gilthoniel." Aeroniel seemed ready to weep with relief. "Then Saeldur's last letter reached him."

"That means somebody _was_ tampering with the correspondence," Eredhion muttered darkly.

"That is not important now. What is important is that the King is returning. He will get the truth, and… and Legolas will heal, and we can put this mess behind us."

"We cannot _put this mess behind us_ ," Voronwë said, rolling his eyes. "We must have proof of Míron's involvement, and the names of his associates, or this will all be for nothing. We will not be able to prevent him from attempting Legolas' life again."

"The King will know what to do," Saeldur said, speaking for the first time. "He will have the truth." He got to his feet. "I think I will wake Legolas and tell him. It will at least give him something to look forward to."

"He needs to rest," Rochendilwen objected.

"It is long past the time when rest will help," Aeroniel said gravely. "The King's presence might."

* * *

 **29 September, Morning**

"You look better."

Legolas smiled, and if it did not have the irrepressible cheer the Elf-prince's smiles normally did, it was still bright enough to dispel some of Saeldur's worry.

"I feel better, though Feredir will still not let me leave my rooms."

"You might _think_ you feel better," Feredir said. "But you have been ill for some time. Even an Elf cannot heal from that in a day. We will see how you are in a week, and then we will talk about attending council."

"A week –"

"Legolas," Saeldur said flatly, before Legolas could voice his objections.

Legolas met his eyes and gave him a small, unrepentant shrug. "What harm is there in asking? Be easy, Feredir, I will not break your bounds… today."

"Today is all I ask for. I will worry about tomorrow when it comes."

"You can go, Feredir, if you wish. Saeldur is here to see that I follow orders, and my father will come after council."

"Are you so eager to be rid of me?" Feredir asked, teasing.

"Are _you_ not eager to see your family? I am grateful for your care, but you cannot avoid them forever."

"I do not want to avoid them forever. Only until… Until I know what to say." Feredir's glance took in both Legolas and Saeldur. "My sister tried to kill you, and my parents were going to stand by and let it happen. I do not know if I can forgive them, or if I even want to see them."

"The King said your father told him they intended to speak openly to Eredhion and Voronwë if… if the situation deteriorated that much. Lady Celebwen was confident I would heal, and she was right."

"Legolas, please. You were _dying_ when we returned. The time for my parents to speak to the Prince's Guards was at least a week ago. You cannot condone this!"

"I do not condone it, but I understand. Lord Thorontur was worried about his daughter. Melda will leave soon, Calathiel is barely speaking to your parents – and your father's friends are not speaking to him either. I will be fine for a few hours, and I will summon you or Lord Barancrist if I feel unwell. Your place is with your parents."

Feredir rolled his eyes and turned to Saeldur. " _You_ talk sense to him. How can I face someone who has been plotting against Legolas, sister or not?"

"No," Saeldur murmured. "How can you?"

Legolas rolled his eyes. "You are not helping. Feredir… _Go._ Go, speak to your parents – listen to what they say, that is all I ask. Listen, and if you are not satisfied, I will not say another thing about it. Please, Feredir."

Feredir sighed. "Very well, I will go. But I will hold you to your word. I do not want to hear about this again."

Legolas nodded. Feredir left.

Saeldur took Feredir's vacated chair. "Can you really forgive Lord Thorontur?"

"Lord Thorontur was in a desperate situation."

"That is not an answer. Tell me the truth, Legolas."

"I will be able to forgive him. Maybe not today, but… I will." Legolas sighed. "I _hope_ I will… I trusted him."

"I know."

"I trusted him, and… I never for a moment imagined he would… I know it was an unenviable position to be in, and I cannot answer for what I would have done in his place. All the same… I will be able forgive him, but I do not know if I can trust him again." Legolas shook himself. "It does no good to dwell on it. You were going to tell me something, yesterday… before Míron came."

"I…" Saeldur's throat was inexplicably dry. "It was nothing important. It does not matter… now."

Saeldur knew it was cowardice, but he could not stand the thought of forfeiting Legolas' trust.

There would be another time to tell him… a better time, when this was far enough in the past that they could all laugh about it.

* * *

 **19 September, Morning**

"Stop!"

Saeldur's voice was urgent enough to make Legolas raise his head. Calathiel glanced up at Saeldur only for a moment before going back to the draught she was mixing. Melda, on the other hand, straightened fully, her position almost challenging as she watched Saeldur approach.

Under any other circumstances, Legolas would have wondered at that. He was too tired to give it more than a passing thought.

Saeldur had noticed neither Calathiel nor Melda. His attention was on the cup in Legolas' hands.

"Saeldur?" Rochendilwen was on her feet, knives in her hands. "What is it?"

"Legolas, give me the cup."

"What?" Calathiel demanded, at the same time as Melda said, "Have you lost your mind?"

Saeldur ignored them all.

"Legolas." He was in front of Legolas now. "Trust me. Give me the cup." Mystified, Legolas handed it over. Saeldur addressed his remarks to Melda and Calathiel, though his eyes were still on Legolas. "There will be no more pain relievers, no more fever reducers… no more medicine."

"Saeldur," Rochendilwen said, "what is happening?"

"Someone has been poisoning Legolas."

"You are out of your mind," Melda snapped.

"I promise I am not. Legolas, someone has been poisoning you. I _know_ this. Please, trust me."

Melda's eyes blazed. "Even if your preposterous suggestion is true, how does it help to prevent him from taking his medicine? Have some sense, Saeldur!"

"He thinks _we_ are poisoning Legolas," Calathiel breathed. "Saeldur, you think _we_ are poisoning Legolas… But _why_? We would never do such a thing!"

Saeldur did not look away from Legolas. "We cannot take the risk. Melda, Calathiel, please leave. Rochendilwen, if you would fetch Aeroniel, Eredhion and Voronwë… We have to talk."

Rochendilwen hurried off, hearing the undercurrent of urgency in Saeldur's voice.

"This is absurd." Melda went back to the powders she had been measuring. "You have no authority to order me out."

"Saeldur," Legolas murmured, "you cannot really think any of the healers would…"

"Legolas, please. Trust me."

Legolas sighed and turned to Melda. "You do not have to leave. In fact, it might be as well to fetch Lady Celebwen. Anyone who has anything to say can say it, and then we will decide what to do."

"Calathiel, fetch _Naneth_ ," Melda ordered, moving to the door. "I am going to find _Adar_."

Legolas grimaced against the anticipatory pounding building behind his eyes.

"Please tell me you had a reason for that," he told Saeldur. "Because we have just unleashed a storm."

Saeldur sank slowly into the chair beside Legolas'. "Trust me."

* * *

 **29 September, Afternoon**

Thranduil shut the door firmly and drew the bolt, coaxing a tired laugh from Legolas.

"Are you so disinclined to see anyone, _Adar_?"

"I have not had a single moment alone with you since I saw Míron with a knife to your throat. I know your friends are concerned, but… Legolas, you do not know how frightened I was. I thought I was going to lose you."

Legolas' gaze softened. A sharp glance from his father kept him seated, but he held out his hand. Thranduil took it and squeezed it, pressing a kiss to his son's forehead as he did.

"Thorontur wants to see you," he said, releasing Legolas and pulling up a chair of his own. "He asked me again just now. I told him I would not force you into it – you do not have to see him if you do not like."

"I probably should," Legolas said ruefully, "considering I sent Feredir to make his peace with Lord Thorontur. I will speak to him."

"If you wish, but wait until you are stronger. There is no need for haste. And it will do him good to worry."

Legolas raised his eyebrows. "Let all beware the wrath of the Elven-king," he said, the teasing lilt in his voice making his father shake his head in fond exasperation. He had been so close – _so_ close – to never hearing his son's banter again.

But Thranduil could not bring himself to joke. "Anyone who lays a hand on you will face my wrath. Never doubt that. If Saeldur had not killed Míron, I would have… I would have done things to him that I would never want you to see me do, so perhaps it is just as well that I did not have the chance."

"I would not have blamed you for anything."

"I know you would not." Thranduil glanced at his son and then away. Legolas looked like him, and he always had done, but there was something in the quirk of his lips and the tilt of his head that was uncannily like Lindariel. "Your mother might have blamed me."

" _Adar_ , please. That is not true. She would have done nothing of the kind."

"No? When I asked her to marry me, I did tell her that the life of a queen would not be easy, but I never imagined, neither of us imagined, that it would have included her son nearly being murdered by my enemies, and that more than once. She might have been less willing to accept me if she had known _that_ was to follow."

"I do not think Lord Míron ever had anything against _you_. And even if he did, it is not your fault. You are not to blame for his actions."

"Perhaps, but I _am_ to blame for trusting Thorontur."

" _Adar_ , no. He is your oldest friend. And he would never have done what he did if he had not guessed one of his children was involved. What would you have done in his position?"

"That is not relevant," Thranduil muttered, "since you would never murder another Elf in cold blood."

"That Melda would is Lord Thorontur's misfortune."

"If he had brought her up to be a decent Elf she would never have contemplated such a thing. No, you will not make excuses for Thorontur, Legolas, even if he _is_ my closest friend. I could have forgiven him if he had acted against _me_ , but his actions almost cost _your_ life. I cannot forgive that. Do not ask it of me."

Legolas seemed to realize it was pointless to argue. He bowed his head in acknowledgement and did not press the issue.

"How did you know to return?"

"Saeldur wrote to me… And I hope I have not earned him a scolding by telling you that. Disobedience or not, he managed to get word to me, which was more than anybody else did."

Legolas laughed. "I promise I will not call him to account for it. I would have written to you myself – you do not know how I wanted you to return –"

Legolas broke off abruptly, leaving Thranduil a little shocked at the uncharacteristically vulnerable admission.

"If you wanted me, you should have asked me to come home. I would have come, Legolas."

"I know. I just… I did not want to admit that…" Legolas paused, gathering his thoughts. "At first I did not write to you because I truly did not think it was anything more than a normal injury, and I saw no reason to worry you when you were so far. And then when Lord Thorontur advised me against it… I should have known then that something was wrong. When has he ever advised me to conceal an injury from you in the past? I was not thinking clearly."

"It is hardly your fault you were not." Thranduil reached for Legolas' hands again. "I meant what I said yesterday. You have been spared to me, and that is the greatest gift I could have asked for. Nothing else matters." He squeezed his son's hands and released them. "We should speak of more pleasant things."

Legolas laughed again, the sound light and merry enough to warm Thranduil's soul. "Then tell me, _Adar_ , what did you think of Brand?"

"I liked him very much. He seems fond of you." Thranduil felt himself smiling. "Of course I cannot say I approve of his odd Mannish customs…"

* * *

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